#but it’s just so exhausting being on the receiving end of someone’s self-loathing

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

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[somian-audere]

ENTRY I

a day where I wanted to...

I still remember the day I wanted to die.

Unsurprisingly, it was one of the worst days of my life. Honestly though, anyone could’ve had the day that I had. It was around my first year of college, and my professor gave out the results of our first long exam, and as expected, I had one of the lowest scores in class. How did I know? Call it student’s intuition. Kidding, one of my classmates and self-proclaimed friend of mine took a peek and…the face that they made was oh-so full of pity, took a look at their own score and smiled. So glad that I could brighten your day, I’ve moved on from that, and while I never necessarily forgave them for that, I did become a bit of a parasite during group works, so…I surmise that this may seem fair.

It isn’t.

I couldn’t think of anything else after that.

I just went through the motions, I get that most failures are just a step towards success, or so they say, but no one really knows whether or not your failures will get you to a point where you’re finally proud of yourself. At that moment, I was just loathing every last decision that got me to that point in time.

It was a mistake.

Really though, it was only through sheer luck that I managed to get myself into one of the country’s top universities and into a course that was ‘highly-respected,’ and ‘vital,’ to the well-being of the planet. And it was just an unfortunate sequence of events that led me into receiving a high-end scholarship that was obviously meant for someone else.

Truth was,

I didn’t belong here. Not with all these genuinely skilled people. I wanted to pursue another path, and I thought that by going through here that it would’ve led me to where I wanted to be. And now, I have no clue where the hell I’m going.

There was no way out.

But I couldn’t take the easy way out either. Whether it was pride or stubbornness, maybe both, I could never find it in myself to just end it all. Though I almost did that day, with all the cars passing by me the moment I walked out of class, it would’ve been so easy.

It wouldn’t have been.

My family would’ve been distraught, and I’m pretty sure I still had some friends that cared. That and there might’ve even been a chance I could’ve survived. Still even now, I wanted to die.

Or was it perhaps,

To live in a point wherein I no longer had to exist, that would be so easy right? But the thing was, there was already a world where I didn’t exist in. The years before I was born, and years after I die, I know that no one will remember me, but that means that everything I did now, had the lowest possible bearing onto anyone else’s life.

So why?

Why carry on at all?

I once had a dream.

Not like an aspiration, but more of the sleeping dream. The first thing I saw, was a cherry blossom tree, bear in mind I had never seen cherry blossoms outside of anime, the fact that the human mind can form images of things never seen before is astounding. And I knew, because the moment a single petal fell, my eyes began to tear up. It was the most beautiful sight I had ever borne witness to. Tears continued to drop, and though the sight had become clearer, these tears would not stop.

And then he came,

An old man carrying a brown book, whose face was wrinkled and he had eyes that were tired maybe more than mine. He made his way closer to the tree, and then he sat underneath it. I was just staring at him, but he didn’t seem to acknowledge my presence. He raised the book near his eye level, but he didn’t open it. He just patted it, and smiled.

Much like everything else in the dream,

It was a wonderful smile. My knees gave way, all of a sudden, I felt more exhausted yet utterly enamored by the sight ahead of me. His smile, would never leave my mind. I reached out my hand to the elderly fellow, and desperately asked, “How can I ever be that happy?!” He didn’t say a word, but his smile grew wider. The cherry blossoms circled us both, then…I woke up.

I…still don’t have an answer.

I was jealous. Completely and terribly jealous. And I wanted to know, if I could be like that old man. To grab a hold of a tomorrow where, I don’t have to worry about another day. I know what will happen if I just stopped existing, but what happens if I keep going?

It still hurts,

But the view of the sunset, the cherry blossoms, and that old man, the images formed in my head that day…

I want to believe that they’ll carry on until tomorrow comes.

[walking-metaphor]

Sometimes the desire of seeking a lover consumes me and I find myself being out of control- declaring a confession first in a most inconvenient time, setting high hopes towards a potential despite knowing their uncertainties, pressing trust towards their skin without scrutinizing  what kind of skeletons  they’re hiding  and lastly, giving all of me which will soon resort to self loathing especially when a romance revolutionized into regrets. Connecting to someone and being able to exchange affection always burst me into flames, exploring their notions, their happiness, their dreams-all about them is also all about love. Molding attraction through free will and the possibility that they’re the metaphors I have been longing to spend emptiness, to laugh and to build a different perspective together, these are the reasons why I take risk even after knowing that I end up alone in a void- crying my hearts out and blaming myself. The thought of giving and  receiving love-its depths, its mystery and  how it is both favorable and unfavorable circumstance gave me the courage to keep on gambling towards it, such a shame that ever since the first round, I didn’t win-always the hopeless romantic rejected loser who writes poetry for people who can’t even recite the same sentences on my lips.

I am not scared of love despite the impairment it bring towards me. Even after countless unrequited inclination and failed relationships,I never slip away into believing that there is someone for me, someone that will resonate the affection with justice and equality, but who? Some folks told me to keep on waiting and halt the seeking for the right one will arrive unexpectedly. But in this time and age, where everybody is falling in love, sometimes I wonder if the existence of my red string is true or maybe it is just a fiction that I made myself for I romanticized almost everyday and maybe I am just too attached with its idea for I wrote a lot about love, maybe my poetic sense acting up. I don’t know but the only truth I am certain is that i love genuinely, if I love someone it is not conditional, I love them with all the love I know and with all the love I could. Sadly, I always attract complicated and dangerous people. I declared my alliance to them with all the sincerity but all I received back from them are lies, lies continues lies, sick patterns and manipulation, well of course at first I’m too innocent to realize all of these and mistaken it as love, I’m such and idiot to be honest. 

Its terrible and sometimes I abhor involving myself too much on love. There are times that I just want to become the greater evil-the one who inflict pain towards a mortal for I am too exhausted with me always losing myself. 

Maybe love, both giving and receiving is not for me. At this moment, all I set myself into is to stay away from it, to build my walls as great as the sun, to protect myself from anyone who are plotting a scheme to evade my safe haven. I don’t want to believe anymore, I don’t want to come across another being that looks so good yet will stab me in the back at the end. Sweet talker, lovely eyes, pretty smiles and words that sounds authentic-such a scammer and fool of me to take them as comrade without bringing them in a standstill, if this is war and I’m the general, I already made my warriors killed and the king dethroned, all because of me not thinking enough, just throwing myself out into a cabin without enough food for the wolves. I think I caused my own pain , its my fault. But I cant blame myself they made me believe by their tricks ,their voice that calms my rage, them listening to me, them validating me and them making me feel that  I matter, that I exist-as someone who is always a background character,the thought of being seen is a significant event in my life. But all of those is just only for show to get me, to imprison me to cause havoc on my insides.

I want to keep myself lock away from anyone now, I don’t want to entertain, to welcome and to connect. I am too tired and sick of it. Maybe I must change myself too, to sew the wounds, to heal to grow and  to become the best, I think I have to love me first, loving myself as much as before.

But if ever, if there is someone out there, just one woman, someone worth enough , for the last time, maybe I’ll jump again.

-excerpt from the risks that hurt the most: love

[everafterkeiji]

Song: Cheater by The Vamps

Summary: Kuroo's skills in reading a game has been expanded when he meets your boyfriend.

Pairings: Tetsuro Kuroo x fem! reader

Word count: 3.3k

Content, tags: mentions of cheating, a few cuss words, childhood friends to lovers!

A/N: this was such an impulsive moment🧍 Kuroo has been consuming my brain so here ya go fellow simps

“Am I obligated to?”

“It was his request, Tetsu.”

Kuroo groans while you stare at him wondering what’s so wrong about meeting with your boyfriend. He sees your clueless reaction but he sets it aside knowing you wanted this to happen in the first place. Although you didn’t push him, your boyfriend insisted. It was a sweet gesture because he took the time to understand that Tetsuro to you is just a friend and nothing else. Disregarding his jealousy of the intimidating volleyball player, he initiated the hang out.

Meanwhile, the proud captain was loathing the hours before he could even step into your boyfriend's house.

If you could pick one of the words to describe Kuroo, obviously one of them is self-aware.

Which is the antonym of what you have under your own dictionary.

Kuroo always puts his best during a match and he wasn’t looked upon for no reason. Of course, he’s observant out of the court too. So, when that boyfriend of yours came in to the picture—he wasn’t exactly keen on befriending him. All he can do is accept whatever that decision was because he did catch multiple glances where you were smiling and maybe seeing that put him at ease making him less worried with your relationship.

But his intuition is stronger than the actual belief that your boyfriend is all too good.

Besides, as a best friend, it was technically his job to be suspicious of the boy.

“I’ll go over there after practice.” You smile at his words before linking your arm with his as you both walk to your class.

“Hey, by Saturday can we play again?” You asked him while he looks down on you with a chuckle, loving that you had to ask even when you didn’t need to do.

“Why’d you ask anyway? Of course.”

It was admirable that your path of being with each other actually started with volleyball. At the age of 9 after a ball fled into your yard from the Kozume residence, Kuroo had knocked politely on the wall asking if he could get the ball back. Seeing that the wall felt like a building to you, you took the ball out of curiosity before going over to the place next door and handing him the ball.

Wherein Kuroo had to pause when he saw you.

Ever since then, you played volleyball with the two. You three joined Nekoma’s volleyball teams, even practicing together. You were thankful to have them not only they were tremendous at play but also, they were your most trusted friends and their judgement is always important. So, when you got into a relationship—it was a mix of everything.

Kenma was subtly supportive. He knew you were capable of picking what you deserve and if that boy doesn’t cause any trouble, then the setter is all for it. Kuroo, on the other hand, was hesitant.

If only he wasn’t in love with you—then maybe he could’ve given the poor boy some sign of approval.

After years of falling, his chances were already taken the moment you said your feelings were growing for a certain boy from your class. Though you were classmates with Kuroo, he eyed every boy that could be the suspect. At first, he was just curious because he hasn’t seen you interact with them before but then the second time was more on the worried side when he wondered what could’ve been missing from him that he had to find in another guy for answers.

Kenma had to assure him at some point. The blonde noticed Kuroo’s feelings ever since he saw the older boy teach you volleyball without him. He could evidently see the blush on his friends face whenever you’d land a compliment to Tetsuro. It even surprised Kenma when he knew Kuroo was still attached to his feelings after years of knowing you. He at least needed to say something before it takes a toll on him.

“You’re actually going, it’s funny.” The setter mocks though the blocker knew what he meant. How can he agree this easily anyway? He knew it’d make you happy but making room for someone after a practice instead of resting isn’t really a good circumstance.

“I know, I know. I’d be home in the next five minutes.” Kuroo jokes but when the practice finally ends, he kept his attention to his phone when he received the message for his location. He sighs tiredly while Kenma stifles a laugh.

“Don’t go then.”

“As if that wasn’t my plan beforehand.” Kenma rolls his eyes but bids goodbye to Kuroo knowing they’re not able to walk home together.

God, he was irritated.

It was rather a small thing to be pissed off about. Who knows? It could end well with the two of them but that stupid intuition is what’s dragging his feet. How could he ignore it anyway? Murmurs were like rumors that spread like wildfire when gossip has never been this good so when he heard a tiny conversation of a certain girl meeting with your boyfriend—he doesn’t know what held him back from throwing a punch to him right then and there but perhaps it was because you can’t judge too quickly. Rumors were rumors. If he believed it right away then it meant he was feeding off of the possibility that you’d be single again but he doesn’t think like that. His main reason was that he couldn’t bear to see you cry over a guy who simply didn’t deserve an ounce of sympathy—especially from you.

And right at the front of his door, a pair of a cheerleader's shoes were there.

You being a volleyball player and the shoes didn’t exactly connect.

“I’ll see you next time then?”

“Saturday?”

“I can’t. My— Y/N is making me play with her and that captain Kuroo.”

“You said you broke up with her!”

“Look- I will just wait will ya?”

And he’s heard enough.

Go inside, Tetsuro.

Defend Y/N.

Beat him.

But I can’t act on my own.

Gritting his teeth with a tight grip on the sling of his bag, he makes a forced decision.

Kuroo doesn’t even hesitate to walk away now. His pace is way heavier and faster compared to his slow ones before. He wished he carried a volleyball so he could directly throw it to his conniving face. He would’ve hit it like Oikawa during a power serve and scream incoherent profanities as he lands a punch or two. Without Kenma, the possibilities were endless when he couldn’t be held back.

The moment he enters his room, he immediately reaches for his phone and calls for Kenma since the rage was getting out of hand and he can’t focus on anything else apart from beating the heck out of your cheater of a boyfriend- well soon to be ex considering that he could never let you stay with him for another second. He walks around his room wondering which one was the best options to let you know as the setter has yet to answer his call.

“Fuck.” He mutters at the exact same time that Kenma finally picks up.

“What-”

“He’s cheating on Y/N.”

“Well shit.”

Kenma pauses his game once the words ring in his ears. He too feels the anger bubble inside him but soon it was replaced by worry when he realizes how unfortunate it was for Kuroo to be the one to witness it and actually be the person to face you with such a heavy topic.

“How are you gonna tell her?” He asks but Kuroo bites his lip at the question he’s been wanting to avoid. It was inescapable though. You were closer to him—too close that you two relied on each other to no end and would be each other's comfort at needed times. It was difficult for the both of you.

“He’s planning to break up with her on Saturday and she- fuck I don’t know what to do.” The troubled boy admits while Kenma sighs not finding a win in both situations or any of the options he and Kuroo thought of.

“Y/N will believe you. You just have to give her time when she denies it at first, I guess.” Kenma suggests while Kuroo runs a hand to his hair.

“God, I fucking hate him.”

“Who is it?”

“A fucking cheerleader— how low.” Tetsuro couldn’t sit straight. Every inch of his body was telling him to find your boyfriend and show him what a waste of energy he was. It had been three months since you introduced him and how does he gain that much of a confidence to cheat at such an early stage of your relationship? Was three months a normal pace to be bored? Too bored that he chose a cheerleader to make up for that ‘blandness'. God, if Kuroo was in that relationship—cheating could never be an option. How could he? He loved you too much that having a chance wasted like that is too big to risk or experience.

“Talk to him tomorrow.” Kenma says while Kuroo held his breath when he realizes how the tension would reek between him and your boyfriend.

“Yeah but-“

The notification sound on his phone echoed through the room and when he slides up to see whose it from, he sighs when it was from you.

Least annoying: how’d it go???

“Y/N messaged me.” He updates the blonde as his fingers hovered the keyboard wondering what lie was the most believable even if he felt guilty to do so but after deleting multiple answers, he just couldn’t t do it.

“We just have to talk to her tomorrow. I feel like she needs us more now—fucking prick of a boyfriend.” Kenma comments with spite in his voice. It wasn’t the first time where he cared too much that he too wanted to join Kuroo in a fit of rage to beat your boyfriend but Kenma is cautious of your emotions and thinks that when he does join in on the fight, it’d only bring you more stress.

But he can’t lie and say throwing a punch to the lying boy wasn’t going to bring him satisfaction.

“Okay. I have to go and think this through.” He bids goodbye to Kenma before hanging up and lying down on his bed with his mind racing nonstop—forgetting to text you in the midst of panic and rage. You didn’t mind the lack of reply, you knew he wasn’t really interested in going in the first place and he must’ve been exhausted from practice as well so you took a nap early.

Meanwhile, your best friend faced a sleepless night.

Kuroo and Kenma were caught off guard when first period ended and you were yet to arrive.

Does she know?

The break came in and there still wasn’t a sign from you but as they ate, a certain hand falls on Kuroo’s shoulder making the anger between him and Kenma ignite once they see your boyfriend.

“Hey, you didn’t stop by yesterday.” Your boyfriend informs him while Yaku and the rest of the team wonder what’s got their captain looking like he radiated flames around him. Kuroo then removes the hand from his shoulder while Kenma nudges the tense boy from losing control out in the cafeteria.

“I was tired,” he pauses to find words that wouldn’t just expose him right then and there, “I couldn’t make it.”

Your boyfriend nods, a sign that he was thankful that Kuroo didn’t come to destroy the time he shared with the cheerleader.

“Well, we got Saturday to catch up. I’ll see you then!” He leaves with a sigh of relief while Kuroo stands up from his table, unable to contain it anymore but two hands held him back. He turns to see Yaku and Kenma holding his arm as he hesitates to follow what they want him to do. He then takes a deep breath and sits down while the two sighed that Kuroo managed to stop.

“I don’t know what’s happening but you can’t just do it here.” Yaku says making Kuroo remain silent. Kenma agrees but he too felt the urge to follow his furious friend.

“Sorry.” Kuroo whispers and Yaku nods not pushing the topic any further but he’s got a clue on what could’ve happened. Seeing their captain in this state certainly was more than a duel between him and your boyfriend. Of course, they knew about his feelings for you so connecting a few dots, Yaku realizes how bad it was.

Classes went on and still no sign of you making the worry rise more between the two. By the time practice came on, the two expresses their frustration through volleyball and the rest of their teammates wonder why their play that night felt like they were in a serious match.

But they were playing a difficult role of being honest with you.

When Saturday rolled in, Kuroo was already at the place you told him to meet. Beforehand, he warns Kenma not to come knowing it’s more on his responsibility and the blonde obeyed him because he too wasn’t ready to face a confrontation like that but Kenma is more than ready to comfort you once the terrible news was given to you.

“Hey!” You greeted him with a smile while he stands up from his sit and hugs you immediately catching you by surprise. With a laugh, you hugged him back wrapping your arms around his neck as he pulls you closer hesitant to let your smile fall.

Then he notices how you were unaccompanied making him pull away seeing the opportunity to tell you while he wasn’t there but he still wasn’t ready.

“Y/N-”

“Hey babe, didn’t know you were already here but let’s play some volleyball!” He shouts with a façade of excitement. You smile at Kuroo before staying by his side instead of teaming up with your own boyfriend.

“One versus two huh?” Your boyfriend taunts while you serve the ball as he receives, initiating the start of the game. Every spike or receive had Kuroo send knives to his way with his sharp and accusing eyes. The lonesome of a player envied the way Kuroo caught the ball effortlessly and because you chose to be with the opposing team making the rally last longer due to Kuroo’s rage and your boyfriends' jealousy.

Once you managed to spike a ball strong enough to make your boyfriend fall from the failed attempt of receiving it, you cheered.

But with the course of happiness, you pulled Kuroo in from the collar of his shirt before taking your lips in his while your boyfriend remains frozen as the boy who was stupidly in love only made the rightful choice which was to kiss back and cherish the way he’s waited for this to happen. Getting a little too lost in the kiss, he cups your cheek bringing you closer and tucking your hair behind your ear with his free hand snaking around your waist, gripping it lightly to make sure it was actually happening.

You pull away softly, flushed cheeks and a smile on your face.

“What the hell Y/N!” Your boyfriend shouts but then he couldn’t exactly move because of how Tetsuro would react once he actually takes a step forward. Kuroo had his arms crossed in front of his chest staring at the boy up and down while desperately trying to act like his knees weren’t just about to give out after what happened.

“What’s wrong? If you need some kisses babe, why don’t you call that cheerleader of yours?”

Kuroo’s jaw drops to the floor—almost in sync with your boyfriend's similar reaction. The sweat rolls down his forehead, obviously intimidated by the two of you catching him in the act while Tetsuro protectively wraps his arm around you once again and as he watches for your features to fall, he was stunned.

You were smiling.

You leaned on Kuroo’s side while he registers how you knew with questions multiplying with every second.

“I want you to leave me the fuck alone and if you even try to deny it—I'll let Tetsu do the talking for me.” He smirks while your boy- ex boyfriend- scoffs making the two of you raise an eyebrow at his reaction.

You removed your position from Kuroo, taking a few steps to be in front of the cheater with a smile as you land a deserving and powerful punch to his cheek, making him stumble at the impact while the other boy was left speechless but nonetheless his heart races with the scene replaying in his mind. You shake your hand as Kuroo crouches down to meet your boyfriend with a smirk mocking the pain he was in.

“Have fun with her— she's a bore anyway.” You look at Tetsuro who let out a laugh as he pats the head of the fallen loser.

“No problem then. I’ll enjoy her as much as I can.” He then walks away, which turned down your expectations of Kuroo landing a punch as well. As the frustrated boy slowly stands up, Tetsuro pulls you against him with a finger to your chin raising it to meet your lip with his as your eyes remained on him while the boy had his eyes do the taunting who were fixated on your ex.

“After all, she’s always been mine.”

With the end of his sentence, he shifts his attention back to you before taking your lips again as the two of you smile. Your ex then walks away with a scowl as he throws his phone in frustration that he lost to Kuroo.

“Mind telling me how you knew, kitten?” He asks when he pulled away with his voice low, taking your heart by a storm.

“I got sick yesterday and when I came to school to get all the work I missed— I overheard you and Kenma talking about it.” He frowns when he realizes how bitter that must’ve been but he continues to ask, though you really couldn’t concentrate when his hand was caressing your waist.

“So, you knew all along?”

“I knew about it a few weeks ago when I read the messages on his phone. When he asked you to hang out, I figured you’d find out about it too.” Kuroo sighs of disappointment before speaking.

“I’m sorry you had to meet an asshole like that,” He says while you shook your head before he continues, “Why him though?” which made you blush.

“I couldn’t get over a certain boy and simply thought it would work but you obviously saw the outcome.” With your previous statement, he lets a smirk fall on his lips now that you couldn’t even look at him straight.

“And that certain boy is?” He edged on, his heart pushing him to confirm if it was actually him— that all the years he spent loving you might actually have you reciprocating those feelings.

“It’s you.” You confessed while your heart sets on fire that you finally admitted it. It was an awful attempt to cover your feelings in the first place. In all honesty, it was your fault. If you could’ve just admitted it right away then you’d end up with him instead of the asshole of a man you wasted time on but then again—the kiss was worth it to ever change your decisions.

“No no I wanna hear the full name.” He teases more making you roll your eyes. He then plants a kiss on the crown of your head with a satisfied smile as he internally cheers to not embarrass himself with the overwhelming glee. You also mirror the same state that he was in. Hearing Kuroo at the gym say how much he loves you was enough of an evidence that you should’ve picked him in the first place.

“Well then, should I make my previous statement official now?” You blushed but muttered a yes making Kuroo smile and take your hand, landing a peck on it as he intertwines them with his.

“All yours, Tetsu.”

[teletraan-meets-jarvis]

Monster - Part 2

AO3 Link

Characters: Commander Fox (Main), Commander Wolffe, Commander Cody, Captain Rex, Commander Stone, Corrie Medic Triage (OC).

Summary: Fox deals with the aftermath of his actions, unsure as to whether his brothers can forgive him.

Warnings: 16+, swearing, mentions of death.

Word Count: 3.5k

Part 1 here

Author’s Notes: I've been agonising over this chapter for far longer than necessary so please take it from me. Hopefully it's not complete gibberish. Feedback is appreciated as always, it's my first time writing such prominent clones all as proper characters in a fic so would be great to know what went well and where I can improve! This fic ends with this chapter but the ending leaves it open for imagination, if anyone has any cool thoughts for what may happen my inbox is always open to discuss further! Fic is below the cut, enjoy 😊.

When Fox next came around he was on the cheap sofa in his office. The rigid object making his back stiff, he must’ve been out for a while. He groaned as he attempted to sit up. He felt weak, his entire body sore and sensitive as he shuffled about.

“Welcome back, sunshine.” Stone greeted him while Triage appeared and started poking at him. Stone must’ve relieved Thorn from Fox babysitting duty. The thought made the Commander groan.

“How you feeling, boss?” The medic questioned as he started shining a small light into his eyes.

“Shit” he replied truthfully. “What happened?”

“You had a breakdown, a bad one.” The matter-of-fact bedside manner of the Guard’s chief medical officer was something Fox usually favoured, except when he was on the receiving end of it of course.

“Oh”

“It’s lucky Thorn found you when he did.” Triage chided while tapping away at his Datapad. His clean-shaven face focused as he went about the task. “You’ve got a visitor by the way”

“Hey vod” the gruff voice was followed by an even gruffer Commander strolling into view. What was Wolffe doing here?

“Thorn called.” Hm apparently he’d asked his question aloud.

Fox hadn’t seen Wolffe in months, he was always away on missions and rarely got down time when his Jedi had to return to Coruscant. His scar still stood out prominently against his tanned skin, but it looked better each time he saw him again, like it was slowly settling in to being a part of him. His armour was tattered, the grey paint scratched and chipped while the white plastoid was covered in the dirt of battle.

“Well I’m fi-“

“Don’t try it mir’sheb. I know what happened.” Fox flinched. Wolffe’s tone was flat when he spoke, his face unreadable and despite being one of the eldest of their batch, Fox felt very vulnerable under his little brother’s gaze.

As cadets and during command training, their batch had always been close, but Fox could confidently call Wolffe his best friend out of the lot. Their competitive nature pushed them to always be the best, their dry humour so cutting that only the other could truly understand it for what it was. Both of them were blunt, but over the years, the war had moulded them slightly differently. Where Fox was hardened and distant from his time on Coruscant, surprisingly, some of Wolffe’s ragged edges to his personality had softened. Not really noticeable if you didn’t know him from before, but Fox chalked it up to the friendship and mentoring of his wise Jedi and also his position as a Commander. Wolffe had lost his entire battalion early on in the war and Fox had held his heartbroken vodas he swore he would never let anything come between him and his men ever again. From that point on, Wolffe had gotten to know each member of his squad personally, always ensuring that they knew that despite his hard exterior, he’d always be there for them if they needed it.

Despite all this and how well Fox knew his brother, all that knowledge was doing nothing for him in his current situation. Wolffe knew that he’d killed another clone, yet he hadn’t lashed out yet. Was he just waiting until they were alone? The tension in the air threatening to smother them with each second that passed. Fox wasn’t ready for this conversation.

“We’ll give you two some privacy.” Triage announced before dragging a worried looking Stone out behind him.

Fox didn’t say anything, he just waited for the onslaught from his younger brother. He was sporting his signature frown which could mean a hundred different things.

“Before we even get into this, I just need you to know that we don’t hate you, Fox. We’ll always love you, you di’kut.” Wolffe’s voice finally carried some emotion now that they were alone. It held a mixture of things, brotherly frustration at Fox’s self-loathing, a fear for finding out things he might not want the answer to and the smallest twinge of betrayal for what Fox had done. But among the rest of it, among the words said, there was love. Fox huffed out a humourless laugh.

“Beats me as to why”

“We’re family. We don’t need a reason. We’re stuck with each other, whether you like it or not.”

Silence lingered between them as Fox finally found the courage to speak about the elephant in the room.

“I don’t know why I did it. I didn’t mean to.” His voice was faint, almost like if he said it any louder it’d all be real.

“I know ori’vod”

Fox finally launched into an explanation of what happened. His chest constricting further and further, threatening to rob his body of air as he pushed himself to get the story out. His hands shook in fear of what his closest brother would think of him, of what he’d done. Wolffe hadn’t spoken during the entire story, resigned to just watching him from his perch on his desk. Fox was panicking.

After what felt like the longest silence of Fox’s life, the younger Commander exhaled roughly, his bare hands rubbing at his scar out of habit as he processed the information. “You told Rex this?” Fox was shocked that out of everything to ask, that that was his question. The Guard Commander shook his head.

“Well, we better get him over here” Fox jumped out of his seat and placed a hand over his brother’s comm link.

“Kriff Wolffe, the poor guy has suffered enough. Last thing he needs is me begging for forgiveness for something he can’t forgive. I killed one of our own, one of his last few best friends. He hates me. And I really don’t blame him.”

“Maybe so, but he deserves to hear the truth from you. Whether or not he believes it is up to him.” Reluctantly, he let his arm go and stalked back over to the sofa. “I’ll comm Cody, he’s over there with him now.”

“Didn’t realise you were both planet side.” Fox grunted out, he could really do with some caff, his body was exhausted.

“The 104th were on their way back since Plo had some Jedi stuff to do, we touched down this afternoon. As for the 212th, they finished their last mission and once they heard about everything that’d been going on, General Kenobi requested they come back to help out. Though I have a feeling that was Cody wanting to check in on Rex.”

Fox wanted to ask how Rex was, but the searing guilt that burned in his chest couldn’t bear to ask the question. So he decided to check on some people who potentially hated him a smidge less, only a smidge though.

“Have you heard from the others?”

Wolffe nodded and went on to tell him about what the rest of their batch had been up to. Gree had recently been assigned to General Yoda, who he was absolutely terrified of. Fox didn’t blame him, the Jedi was extremely powerful for someone so pint sized, he’d also heard that he had a wicked sense of humour which would definitely stress Gree out, much to the amusement to the rest of his batch. Ponds was getting on nicely with Mace, they’d recently had a successful campaign near the outer rim and were due back on Coruscant soon. The eldest of their batch, Bly, was doing well too. Apparently Wolffe thought he had the hots for his General as Bly apparently refused to shut up about how amazing and strong and caring she was. Fox wasn’t sure if he was messing with him or not, but the thought brought a small smile to his face nonetheless. Trust Bly to fall in love with his Jedi General.

“What about you? How’s life in the Corrie Guard?” Wolffe asked.

Where could he even begin. Fox never offloaded about his problems onto anyone, except maybe his fellow Commanders in the Guard who he shared the burden with. Wolffe wouldn’t understand. A part of him also wanted to be the dutiful big brother and not place any worries or fears onto his vod’ika.

“Not much to report, same as always” he wasn’t lying at least. It was easier this way, for them not to know. They could keep thinking he was safe away from the battlefield. Their hopes in this war were already pretty low, they didn’t need to know about the horrors that lurked away, hidden among the senate corridors and the low levels of Coruscant.

——————————

Anxiety gripped at Fox’s chest as he paced a hole into his metal office floor. Waiting for Cody and Rex made him feel as if he was waiting for a death sentence. He thought of all the ways he could potentially escape but he knew Wolffe would be all over him. The 104th Commander always was a fan of tough love and things didn’t get tougher than this.

There was a slight commotion outside which pulled the both of them to attention.

Rex came storming in, his face set like stone, an angry frown marring his features and deepening the creases in his forehead. Once he set his sights on Fox nothing could deter him. “Rex, wait!” Wolffe shouted but he couldn’t stop him in time. Rex’s fist slammed into Fox’s nose with a sickening crack, sending the Commander sprawling backwards, catching himself on his desk as his nose started gushing blood.

Cody ran in from nowhere and locked Rex’s arms behind his back, trying to calm their little brother. “Rex, will you just listen to him.” He shouted down his ear while Fox recovered from the blow, cradling his now broken nose as Wolffe came to his side to help him back up.

“Why? Why should I listen? He didn’t listen to Fives!” Rex screamed back as he writhed in Cody’s arms. His words cut into Fox, making him grimace.

“I know. I’m so sorry, Rex.” Fox apologised with a burning sincerity, but it only deepened the frown on Rex’s face.

“I don’t want your apologies.” The Captain shouted back, gone was his usual professional composure. Right now he was a broken man who’d lost one of the last few people he’d let get close to him. There was no rank in this room right now, they were just a group of hurting vod, trying to pick up the pieces.

Rex spat his words out at Fox with a look that could kill, he probably wanted it to. He looked like he wanted Fox to hurt as much as he was right now. “Maker, I know Palpatine had you wrapped around his finger, I just didn’t realise how much.” Ouch.

“Rex” Cody reprimanded, his Marshall Commander voice coming out as he tried to defuse the situation. The Captain’s face was still masked in hurt and anger, but he did back down slightly after his verbal blow. “The past couple days has been hard for you vod, we know that and we’re here for you. But we wouldn’t be asking you to listen to Fox right now if we didn’t think it was worth it. Please, just give him a chance.” Once he finished, he nodded at Fox to signal him to get started. He took a deep breath and readied himself to try and explain the unexplainable.

“I know it sounds ridiculous but what happened back there, It wasn’t me” he started, and Rex just scoffed, still struggling against Cody’s hold. “Look, I can’t explain it. But I set that gun to stun, I swear to you, Rex. I know you all think I’m some cold, order-following droid but I would’ve brought him… I would’ve brought Fives, in for questioning. You- you have to believe me.” Fox pleaded, blood still trickling down his face from his broken nose. He wasn’t their usual, sarcastic, caffeine deprived big brother. No, Fox was a complete mess as he tried to reason with Rex. He couldn’t bare his brothers thinking that he did this willingly, that he’d turn on his own kind with just a simple order.

“What do you mean it wasn’t you?” Rex’s gaze was still unsure, but he’d never seen Fox like this before. He looked desperate, much like Fives had.

“I- I blacked out. One minute we were moving in and as soon as I saw Fives, and I know this sounds crazy, it’s like something else took over. I was just watching from the sidelines.” Fox gave an exasperated sigh as he tried to explain himself.

“Like something was controlling you?” Rex asked, the cogs in his brain turning as he waited for a reply. Fox just gave an ashamed nod and dreaded realisation dawned on Rex’s face.

“Maybe Fives wasn’t crazy” he said it as barely a whisper but with the silence in the room they all managed to hear it.

“What do you mean?” Cody questioned as he finally let his vod’ika go, content that he wasn’t going to assault the Guard Commander further. Rex used the freedom to go and lock the door to Fox’s office.

“What I’m about to say doesn’t leave this room, understand? No one can know, not our vode, not your Jedi, nobody.” The three of them nodded.

“Before he died, Fives was trying to explain what was going on to General Skywalker and me, he said that there’s something in our heads that could make us do whatever someone wanted… Even kill the Jedi.” Wolffe and Cody’s eyes widened at the thought, finding it impossible to even comprehend hurting their Generals who they cared for deeply.

“And if, if, he’s right about that, well, he said the Chancellor is in on the whole thing. That he set him up. And as insane as it sounds, that could explain why he sent Fox, of all people, to hunt him down.” Rex finally spared him a glance that wasn’t filled with complete hate, there was a slight bit of pity in for good measure instead.

“You’re saying that the Chancellor has some sort of control over me?” Fox replied. The colour draining from his face as he considered the option.

“I’m saying… it’s a possibility. After seeing what happened with Tup, what you’re saying happened to you doesn’t seem far off. He had no idea why he killed General Tiplar. Said he didn’t mean to hurt her.”

“Okay hold on, so you’re trying to tell us that Fives uncovered a plot by the Chancellor which involves all of the clones having something in their heads which allows them to be controlled, with the likely purpose of it being to kill the Jedi?” Wolffe asked with the hopes that he might wake up from this weird dream he found himself in.

“Pretty much” Rex replied.

“Ozik” Cody cursed. “And you believe him? Fives? You sure he didn’t just lose it?” The Marshal Commander needed this final confirmation from his brother.

“I-” Rex exhaled and dragged a gloved hand down his face “I think I do. I wasn’t sure before but with what Fox is saying, it’s all a bit too much of a coincidence. I believe him enough to at least look into what he was talking about. He wouldn’t have risked everything he did for nothing.”

Fox tried to keep breathing as the conversation went on. Controlled. A plot to kill the Jedi. Maker this was too much. Surely they had to be wrong. But then he remembered his shit show of a life, the things that the chancellor made him do, things he’d never do willingly if he had the choice like a true sentient being. Maybe it wasn’t such a faraway reality. He repressed the shiver that threatened his body.

“You do realise we’ll get executed on the spot if we’re found looking into this. This is treason. If what you’re saying is true, then it sounds like they went to some pretty serious lengths to keep Fives from outing them.” Wolffe added, ever the pessimist. Not that Fox blamed him, they were moving into dangerous territory with this talk.

“You three can walk away, but I owe this to Fives and Tup.” Rex said, conviction written all over his face.

“I’m in” Fox announced as he wiped most of the blood away from his nose and mouth. The ache from his broken nose setting in as the adrenaline from his and Rex’s confrontation started wearing off.

Wolffe and Cody shared a glance, a silent conversation taking place between the two of them. They both shared strong bonds with their Jedi in different ways, they wanted to do everything in their power to protect them, but could they keep this a secret for long enough? Obi-Wan and Plo were very in touch with their Commander’s emotions. There was a chance they’ll figure out something was up sooner than they’d like. They would just have to work fast. Cody nodded at Wolffe, and the decision was made.

“We’re in too” Wolffe confirmed. “I don’t want any more of our brothers to die if we can help it.”

“What about Skywalker? He was with you and Fives, do we at least have him on side?” Cody asked and Rex pulled a disappointed face.

“As soon as Fives mentioned the Chancellor being involved, Anakin wrote the whole thing off… It’s just us.”

“We can work with that” Cody comforted with a hand on his little brother’s shoulder and a small smile. The Commander’s comm link started chirping and he gave them all a sorry look. “It’s the General, I better take this and head back. But we’ll catch up later.”

“79’s?” Wolffe offered. Despite none of them fancying a night out, there was no better place to get privacy than a noisy bar filled with identical faces. Cody nodded and quickly departed.

Eventually they had to call Triage back to deal with Fox’s nose. He’d done well to hide the pain during the chat between the four of them, but it had quickly started to take over his thoughts. Thankfully his CMO came armed with pain stims and for once, Fox didn’t get absolutely ripped into by the medic as this injury wasn’t a result of his own stupidity. Well, to be fair, he was sure that assessment was up for debate, especially from Rex who was talking quietly with Wolffe around Fox’s desk.

Fox poked at the metal brace and bandages on his nose, the Bacta patch under it was a squishy texture. Triage knocked his hand away like a parent would a child who was reaching for the last cookie. “Don’t touch it” he warned, and Fox moved his hands back down to his side. “Given our accelerated cell regen and the Bacta patch, you should be good to wear your helmet again by tomorrow” Fox gave his thanks to the medic by clasping his wrist in a handshake before he was left alone with his vode again.

Wolffe conveniently dipped out to use the fresher, leaving Rex and Fox alone for the first time since the incident. Fox’s heart rate sped up as he thought about it, the scenes of Fives’ death playing over and over again in his head like a horror film on repeat. That look on Rex’s face when their eyes met over Fives’ body, seared into his brain as a constant reminder of what he did.

They stared at each other from across the room, Fox was still sat on his cheap, rock solid couch while Rex was stood by his desk.

Fox couldn’t hold the eye contact; he broke it off and shifted his gaze to his hands.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me. It’s not what I’m asking for, you're well within your rights to hate me. But I just want you to know that I wouldn’t hurt you like this willingly. It’s the last thing I’d ever want.” Fox broke the silence. Still not brave enough to meet Rex’s eyes, to see the disappointment and betrayal which would likely be waiting for him.

He heard some shuffling and the couch sink down slightly beside him. He dared a look over and saw Rex’s scratched leg armour.

“I don’t hate you, Fox. I know you were put in a tough situation. I know I like to think I would’ve handled it differently, but truth be told, I don’t know what could’ve happened if Fives didn't put us in that ray shield. And while I don’t want to think about it, I have a feeling someone would’ve got to him eventually. It was inevitable.” He paused and took a shuddering breath. “I just… I just need a bit of time.”

“I appreciate that, take all the time you need.” They both shared a small smile, content that they’d get past this together. There was light on the other side of this dark tunnel.

Rex really did care about Fox; he’d always looked up to him over the years. He remembers the small stuff, the words of encouragement when a training simulator went wrong, the proud look on his face when he got promoted to Captain, the many nights of drinking Thire’s rocket-fuel moonshine in Fox’s office when Rex needed to escape from the war for a few hours.

They’d be fine, time was always the best healer. Fox just hoped that they had enough time left.

Back to Part 1

Back to Masterlist

[katierosefun]

well, even though literally no one asked, am i going to do a whole analysis on how the red album is also lowkey about tcw? sure. sh, let me indulge 12/13 year old me.

state of grace:

our wonderful opening track. the lyrics “just twin fire signs / four blue eyes”—from this line alone, i think a lot about anakin and ahsoka and obi-wan, just because what color are their eyes? blue. check and mate.

but on a more serious level: “and i never saw you coming / and i’ll never be the same” speaks to how each of these characters’ lives were interrupted by the presence of the other. obi-wan certainly didn’t expect anakin to come into his life, and i doubted anakin ever expected ahsoka to come into his life.

“love is a ruthless game unless you play it good and right” and “these are the hands of fate / you’re my Achilles heel” speaks to how this whole theme of love and how both raw and burning and ruthless love can shine in this specific universe. specifically anakin’s kind of love. additionally, the idea of Achilles heel...i’ve already discussed the parallels between Achilles and anakin and don’t feel like rehashing, but it’s def. worth noting.

“this is the golden age of something good and right and real”...golden age. the war was messy and terrible and shouldn’t have ever happened, but also, i think for that brief moment, disaster lineage was at least together.

red

look me in the eye and lie to me about how this song doesn’t sum up the exhilarating rush that must have been being around someone like anakin skywalker.

“losing him was blue like i’ve ever known / missing him was dark grey all alone / forgetting him was like trying to know somebody you never met / but loving him was red”: this entire refrain is about that kind of ruthless, very fiery-seeing-red-everywhere kind of sensation that comes with love. (or, as the song alludes, a kind of dangerous love.)

and if we’re talking about dangerous kind of love—“fighting with him was like trying to solve a crossword and realizing there’s no right answer / regretting him was like wishing you never found out love could be that strong”...thinking thoughts about how there must have been all these times for the people around anakin to clash heads. bro. what even is that.

“remembering him comes in flashbacks, in echoes / told myself it’s time now, gotta let go”. ha ha. you ever think about the people who live after order 66 and wonder what the hell happened to the person they loved. ha.

treacherous

alright, time to put on the anidala hat. this song is supposed to be all about loving someone and constantly feeling like you’re sliding down a slippery slope. a treacherous path—a reckless path—and yet, and yet, “i like it”.

the whole concept of these two being put in a whirlwind romance matches perfectly with these lyrics: “i can’t decide if it’s a choice / getting swept away / i hear the sound of my own voice / asking you to stay”. this mess of a relationship that probably shouldn’t have happened, but it happened, and now the only choice for these two is to hold on...bro.

i knew you were trouble.

ohhhh god, do i need to explain how this is an anidala song or—

“i was in your sights / you got me alone / you found me”,,,the fact that anakin skywalker really looked at padmé amidala after ten years and automatically went “i love her”. a part of me will always sigh and want to pat anakin’s head that please, please, please control yourself, but what am i supposed to do anyways—

but also, the way this song also addresses all the dangerous things that come with a love that probably shouldn’t have started / shouldn’t have been born with so many secrets. the damning / basically self-loathing lyrics like “the joke is on me” and “shame on me now” is honestly kind of sad, and while i don’t think padmé ever regretted loving anakin (and i’ve covered this so many times, but i think anakin and padmé genuinely loved each other), there was def. a sense of constant danger and fear that one day, all the secrets will come tumbling out / something’s going to happen. and all that ultimately bubbles over in revenge of the sith, right when padmé looks at anakin and just doesn’t see him anymore.

all too well

tbh, this song deserves a whole long post on its own, but i’ll try to be concise. i genuinely think this could be about any of the tcw characters / tcw pairings, but because it’s my post and my obsession, i’ll discuss the disaster lineage. there’s something so quietly sad about the line “but you still got [my scarf] in your drawer, even now” and how that speaks to how obi-wan has anakin’s lightsaber / how anakin has ahsoka’s lightsaber both as himself and as ahsoka after ahsoka left the order / after order 66. the fact that you still have a piece of someone you love(d), long after they’re gone...

the fact that this song is so full of memories and longing and aching and grief over a loved relationship. thinking about the lyrics “you tell me about your past, thinking your future was me” is especially sad because while i don’t think anakin was ever completely open about his childhood / past, i like to think he must have told some stories to obi-wan and padmé and ahsoka about happier moments—and you have to wonder what kind of future anakin saw for himself with his loved ones.

“maybe this thing was a masterpiece until you tore it all up” speaks to how for a rare, rare moment, we see anakin skywalker as the hero we’re all supposed to like—and we see how it all crumbles apart so fast.

“but you keep my old scarf from that very first week / because it reminds you of innocence and it smells like me” hits especially hard when you think about how vader still has ahsoka’s lightsabers, or the fact that everything goes “back to when i loved you so / back before you lost the one real thing you’ve ever known”...thinking. a lot about anakin and how the love he felt / received from his friends were real, realer than anything that palpacreep could ever give him. it was all real, and now they’re all memories.

22

okay, this is just a fun song so i can’t really apply it anywhere, but i like to think there must have been a birthday somewhere along the line / some kind of happy event where there’s some chaotic tcw fam shenanigans. ditching the whole scene and “end[ing] up dreaming instead of sleeping”...i like to think they must have had some kind of happy moment like that.

i almost do

this song honestly reminds me the most of anakin and ahsoka. do you ever think that ahsoka might have wanted to reach out to anakin at some point? how “it takes everything in me not to call you”—how she might wish that she could talk to him again but every time she doesn’t, she almost does. (and ha. this makes their S7 reunion even more painful.)

the whole “i bet you think i either moved on or hate you” and “i bet it never ever occurred to you that i can’t say hello to you and risk another goodbye” speaks mostly to that very same reunion. the fact that ahsoka and anakin leave so many things unsaid—the fact that ahsoka restrains herself, cites that reason for the fact that they’ll just catch up another time...when that another time never happens.

we are never ever getting back together

hahaa, i can’t quite laugh about this but also i can because i kinda made a crack edit of disaster lineage + this song over the summer, and it really is just a joke but also...lol vader + ahsoka + obi-wan, but more specifically ahsoka and vader in their reunion in rebels lol. they’re never getting back together, geddit? they “used to think [they] were forever” and “[sigh] he calls me up again and is like i still love you and like,,,this is exhausting, you know?” yeah, me too sis. 🙄

stay stay stay

okay, okay, okay, maybe going a little bit into crack-y happy tcw feelings, but all i’m saying is that i love the image of these dorks staying for each other, you know? the whole “you took the time to memorize me” and “all those times that you didn’t leave / it’s been occurring to me i’d like to hang out with you for my whole life” and “no one else is gonna love me when i get mad” makes me kinda soft but also sad knowing that one of the tragedies of tcw fam is that no one really stays.

the last time

highkey the whole clovis arc in season 6. but anyways, especially the lines about “this is the last time i’m asking you this / put my name at the top of your list” speaks a lot to me about this hunger (yeah, this is @ anakin) to be someone’s first choice. it’s about the anger and jealousy and dull pain of knowing that everyone else’s priorities are elsewhere (and that’s not their fault, but you still feel like it is).

but if we’re thinking about the clovis arc especially, i think a whole lot about anakin + padmé, as well as anakin and obi-wan, esp. in these lyrics: “you wear your best apology / but i was there to watch you leave” and “all those times i let you in / just for you to go again”. we know anakin and padmé were...going through it in this arc, but specially anakin and obi-wan’s conversation—the one where obi-wan’s trying to reach anakin? we see obi-wan briefly open up (ie. about satine!) and anakin quickly shuts it down, and when obi-wan leaves, we see the pain on both of their faces because this wasn’t how the conversation was supposed to go.

but also, if we’re circling back to anakin and padmé’s relationship in this arc especially: the really, really painful lyrics about “this is the last time you tell me i’ve got it wrong” and “this is the last time i say it’s been you all along” and “this is the last time i let you in my door” and “this is the last time / i won’t hurt you anymore”...this arc truly explores just how deep the hurt can run when you have a secret relationship. how quickly love can blur into possession and jealousy and anger, and we see that in how anakin and padmé just...both crumble apart, especially in that one bit when padmé basically says she doesn’t want to see anakin for a little while. like. idk. it’s just sad, because this arc really showed just all the issues and problems within a relationship built on lies.

holy ground

oh god, what a fun song. but anyways, just to kick things off: “and darling, it was good / never looking down / and right there where we stood / was holy ground” speaks to a relationship that was good, even if it was wild and brief. which. disaster lineage.

the whole “i guess we fall apart in the usual way / and the story’s got dust on every page” and “i see your face in every crowd” vibe too—these idiots miss each other, and they probably see each other where they’re not supposed to. there was nothing unusual about their falling apart, of course, but something about this song compels me to think about how even in the grief and pain that ultimately drags ahsoka and obi-wan down especially, i think they still are fond of their happier memories with anakin.

also, “tonight i’m gonna dance for all we’ve been through” and “but i don’t wanna dance if i’m not dancing you” makes me a little sad because i think a lot about the fall of the empire and how the whole galaxy is out celebrating, but there’s a certain togruta woman who can’t completely celebrate because now she knows that. her whole family. really is gone.

sad beautiful tragic

this whole song is so tragic, but. anyways. more tragic disaster lineage vibes. the words “words, how little they mean / when you’re a little too late” makes me want to scream because i think a lot about how in rebels, ahsoka tells vader that she won’t leave him—not this time—and obi-wan crying that he loved anakin—the real tragedy here is that these were all words that anakin should have known deep down, but he didn’t, and they all felt late. their timing is terrible.

and “in dreams, i meet you in warm conversation” screams to me this one passage about how obi-wan dreams about anakin, although those dreams are anything but warm. but the idea of how obi-wan still dreams and how “time is taking its sweet time erasing you”—because in the kenobi novel especially, obi-wan explicitly struggles...a lot with anakin’s loss. he definitely gets...sad and tries to remember how the hell it all happened. he keeps pulling out anakin’s lightsaber and just. forcibly puts it away because he knows looking at it would cause just more grief and oh yikes.

the lucky one

ngl i forgot how fuckign good this song is,,,bro. anyways, i think this def. speaks to the og prequel trilogy trio especially, because i think they were all seriously going through with the whole...reputation thing. thinking mostly about how anakin, padmé, and obi-wan are all supposed to be these heroic / cool / beautiful figures who everyone’s supposed to look up to when in reality, they were all struggling with something. also lol the fact that obi-wan and anakin were both propped up as war propaganda figures in-universe because of palpacreep def. speaks to that whole “they’ll tell you now you’re the lucky one”.

and “they tell you that you’re lucky / but you’re so confused because you don’t feel pretty, you just feel used” and “you wonder if you’ll make it out alive” hurts the most, i think, just because how they apply to all those in prequel trilogy. anakin, obi-wan, and padmé—not to mention all the other jedi and the clones, oh god, the clones—were all fighting a war that ultimately didn’t matter, and they were all fighting a war that didn’t leave them as heroes. it just left them as pawns.

but i think if there’s any hope—any hope at all in this song, i think it’s in the last lyrics: “and they still tell the legend of how you disappeared / how you took the money and your dignity and got the hell out” reminds me the most of probably ahsoka and rex, or the people who survived the mess that was the clone wars. granted, rex didn’t exactly have the choice that ahsoka had, because she was the one who really made the big decision to look around herself and say “nope, i can’t be a part of this order”. she got the hell out.

everything has changed

hear me out, but i just think this makes for a cute anakin and ahsoka song, esp. their very cute beginnings. just like. as soon as they meet each other, both of them are ultimately changed. the fact that ahsoka has been noted to be the key to understanding who anakin is—the fact that it’s ahsoka’s relationship / interactions with anakin that ultimately makes him a better person because they’re siblings, your honor—yeah. very much the cute “all i know is we said hello”...the lyrics going on about “i just wanna know you better” and “your eyes look like coming home” makes me soft because. i think that while yes, they had their own rocky beginning, the difference between anakin and ahsoka’s relationship vs. anakin and obi-wan’s (rip i love anakin and obi-wan and i genuinely believe that obi-wan was the best teacher for anakin, and i think their bond is incredibly special, but.......boys please communicate better) is that i think anakin makes a really explicit effort to make sure ahsoka knows that like. he wants her around.

idk—i’m not saying obi-wan didn’t want anakin around! but i think one of the greatest tragedies of their relationship is that anakin always seemed to just. not click with obi-wan’s own demonstrations of love / i want you to be here messages. (the gambit duology goes a little more into this—only in those books, anakin and obi-wan actually talk a little about their feelings! which is nice!) but anyways, point being: anakin and ahsoka really looked at each other and were like “oh yeah. you’re my idiot now.” and i think that’s really cool of them.

starlight

oh god, this is kind of an anidala song but i also am tempted to say obitine song just because of that one line about “pretending to be a duchess and a prince” because,,,lol duchess geddit? and overall just think it’s really cute because. summer love!!!

but also, i do see this as an anidala song because “he was trying to skip rocks on the ocean, saying to me / don’t you dream impossible things?” because i see anakin as most certainly that dreamy-eyed boy who looks at padmé and is just. like that. (and we see a whole ton of that, esp. in aotc and how padmé initially is like “this is a terrible idea” and eventually winds up falling in love anyways, as one does.)

begin again

this song is odd because it doesn’t really give me overwhelming star wars feelings, but it does remind me a little bit of how ahsoka must have felt getting with the rebels crew. because i think ahsoka must have “watched it begin again” when she noted kanan and ezra’s interactions with each other, and i feel like when she’s with ezra, she sees a lot of the young padawan she used to be, and i think there must have been a point where she recognizes that “what’s past is past”. she’s watching everything begin again.

the moment i knew

this is another one of those songs that makes me sad about anidala because it seems like they’re always getting interrupted? the idea of being told that someone’s going to show but it might not happen because life (ie. war! there’s a war!),,,and still not being able to be really that sad about it in public makes me sad. just. i’m reminded of this one moment in tcw where anakin has to leave early because of something and just. the lyrics “what do you do when the one who means the most to you is the one who didn’t show”—like, of course, we see anakin sneaking off, but i def. think in that one tcw episode, we get a glimpse of. how lonely life might be if you’re just. waiting for someone to come home, only to realize that they might not show.

come back...be here

ha....hahahahaa weirdly both anakin and ahsoka and obitine feelings? give me a second.

okay, so as for anakin and ahsoka first: “i can’t help but wish you took me with you” hits hard just because of the time anakin tells ahsoka that he knows what it feels like to want to leave the order. just. oh god.

and then there’s this bit of “this is when the feeling sinks in / i don’t wanna miss you like this” hits hard, esp. considering the whole utapau arc where anakin accidentally slips in ahsoka’s name. he misses her, and i don’t think he really wanted to show that—but it sinks in so hard and fast for him, and it hurts so much oh god

also, the “right when i was just about to fall”: i know that in this context, fall is supposed to mean falling in love, but. the fact that anakin is literally about to fall like,,,a few days after his reunion with ahsoka. i cry now!

as for obitine: ahahahaha. pain, esp. considering how they probably separated after their year on the run? thinking about how that goodbye must have been like—mostly thinking about how there’s so much history between the two. how strange it is that they “didn’t know each other at all”, and how they might have had “the feeling they could know so much without knowing anything at all”, and now i think about how both of them could have “stumbled through the long goodbye”. i think a lot about those years of separation and how satine confesses how she had been in love with obi-wan for a long time—and how that in itself...wondering how or when satine knew for certain that she had fallen in love with the young jedi who came to her aid. thinking about how her “falling in love in the cruelest way” is how that whole falling in love—and realizing just how in love she was—is so cruel, because like. you know. when you’ve been in love / are loving someone for like...ten years....that’s kinda intense ngl

girl at home

lol this song doesn’t really fit with anything star wars related because i don’t think anyone in tcw would actually cheat on their loved ones? still 100000/10 a bop of a song though, and i still think it’s one of swift’s more mature songs, 10000/10 recommend.

[dangermousie]

Soooo, CFC 51

(Yeah more thoughts now I actually read it in human translation.)

I realize this is minor compared to He Yu later still thinking he’s as straight as a ruler while he’s preparing to fuck XQC and salivating at the prospect but this is long before fucking even occurs to him and he’s running his thumb over someone’s mouth and yet is incapable of even processing that stroking your former doctor/current enemy’s lips with your thumb’s is not a thing people do unless they are attracted...

You know what snagged my attention here? The fact that XQC feels rage. Overwhelming rage. GOOD! He should feel rage at how he is treated; he’s so buttoned down and so refuses to allow himself to feel and process things (probably because there is so much grief and rage and feeling of exhaustion and injustice) but what started as a saving mechanism is now terrible for him. I mean, this whole sequence is gonna take him apart and be horrible (hell, HY’s whole goal is for that to happen), so I am gonna take a small silver lining where I can get.

Meatbun keeps referring to HY as a dragon throughout but before it’s as if one with clipped talons etc and now he’s finally not bothering. But I love that image not just because of danger the it conveys but because it also conveys he’s not really human or with human reactions - he pretended to be and did so well, but he’s very other.

Oh my God, He Yu, if you were any gayer, you’d be the Pride Parade marshal. OMG. Seriously.

This said, “how did you find out you were gay?” “I decided to rape my former doctor and liked it” is not a coming out story one usually thinks about.

Has He Yu or anyone else in these aphrodisiac related stories never heard of masturb*tion? Your dick, drugged or not, is not gonna care if it gets to come into another person or solo. I always wonder about that.

One of the things that is the grossest about all of this (I love the novel, am intrigued by the plot, love XQC, find HY fascinating as a character because as @momoliee​ put it there is no safety net with him - and it’s true you never know what he’s going to do and yet his behavior is both surprising yet utterly logical for his character BUT in terms of my feelings - I seriously seriously loathe HY and need him to be locked up forever and perhaps having every bone in his body broken for a month straight) is that while a lot of this is informed by HY’s subconscious being seriously gay and lusting after XQC for years (even if HY’s conscious mind doesn’t get it), just as much or more of it is driven by the fact that consciously, he wants to break and hurt and humiliate and torture XQC as much as possible. It really is rape as tool of punishment and and control and hurt (as it usually is.) Combined with HY’s toxic views on gender roles and sexuality, it’s such a toxic dump of a mess with so much of HY’s excitement coming from the fact that having sex with a man, let alone being raped by a man with having to be the “receiver” of such attentions, is the most unbearable thing he can do to XQC and that the top is totally masculine and fine and the bottom is humiliating and gross. Once again, totally realistic for HY to think that within his character parameters but makes me want to stab him through the face.

As I said.

GROSS!

Also, He Yu is a huge idiot in addition to being a moral wasteland because he doesn’t even pause to think why he’s turned XQC into n1 enemy when at most, even if we take everything HY saw and thinks  he saw at face value, XQC was a professional and effective physician for him for 7 years, did his job well enough but did not develop any warm feelings towards him, didn’t like him/was afraid of him due to his condition (and let’s face it, if that was the case, He Yu has richly proven XQC justified in wanting to get the hell away) and gave him platitudes he did not believe in himself but convinced HY were a good credo. Is it a disappointment? Sure. But XQC is at most 1% responsible for HY’s state and misery. Why doesn’t he seek out his terrible family, who his beef should be with? Because he’s obsessed with XQC and because he has the brains of a plank, that’s why!

Orrrrrrrr....just a thought...XQC may call the cops! Unfortunately, I am sure he won’t. But he should. Because it’s clear He Yu is in one of his fits brought on by his condition so he’s not 100% all there and if he wasn’t in that fit, he wouldn’t do this however angry or broken or deceived or whatever he felt. BUT! If someone is capable of and performs violent rape when they have a fit, they should really not allowed to be at large in society. I don’t care if it’s jail or a mental institution, but they should be locked up to protect others.

The thing is, HY is once again not thinking at all - leaving aside morality, since he has none - how about self-preservation? Let’s say XQC doesn’t report him to the cops, if HY continues on his acting out path, someone else will or even without the trail of attention and scandal will definitely attract the notice of his parents and they only put up with him due to face. They have not one iota of affection so the moment he causes issues, he’s getting put away.

Bwahahahaha oh Meatbun, points for knowing what you like!

But oh Good God, is MR going to be the only one of her gongs who knows what he’s doing in bed? Like, Mo Xi was terrible and now this. I never knew anyone had a kink for bad sex ahahha

I have NO idea where this story goes from here tbh. I can’t imagine HY and XQC even tolerating being in the same room together after this let alone anything else. How this will ever end up in a couple is beyond me. But I trust Meatbun forever so!

[crypdoezoology]

ik you touched on it a little bit but i'm still like extremely curious about why you don't like hereditary and midsommar specifically? i can't say they're my favorite horror movies either but i do like them so i'm curious about your criticism!

i really struggle to be totally coherent w/ my complaints about these movies 😅 i mainly have just a very gut reaction to them. like i GUESS i can see why people like them, they both have some really well done effects and gore visuals, and they both have a pretty cohesive aesthetic style. but ultimately both of those things end up feeling rather hollow to me.  in hereditary’s cause i think when so much attention is put into the visual look of a film, and clearly had great actors and a good budget that someone would have edited the the plot (and i’ll struggle to stay calm about how frustrated that makes me). if a little indie B movie w/ unknown actors and a tiny little budget makes a somewhat slapdash movie w/ some plot holes but they blow some stuff up in the end or have 2 minute scene of someone’s face melting off you feel like yeah ok this makes sense it is what it is and i can really appreciate that. hereditary has so much going for it and yet it feels completely superficial. it’s all about looks and it has no substance when IT REALLY COULD HAVE. there’s just no excuse! the plot makes no sense to me, the whole cult this is completely convoluted and needed massive editing. nothing adds up and to me it really pulls away from what’s happening in the movie. it kind of seems like it jumps from shock value gore scene to shock value gore scene which is like FINE if that’s what the movie is SUPPOSED TO BE but hereditary parades around in the skin of a psychological horror film about family tragedy. AND IT’S REALLY NOT  ONE. the focus is massively pulled away from the family dynamics w/ all that fucking cult demon ghost shit going on and in the end neither the family drama OR the demon cult ends up being well fleshed out enough to make sense. it’s like they had two scripts lazily glued them together and then put a real expensive dress on it. i really. REALLY. don’t like it. to me it doesn’t feel organic or honesty or fun. i fucking hate every character they are so god damn unlikable there isn’t even anyone to hold on to or enjoy. it just makes every little annoyance stick out to me, there’s nothing to sooth it over and make me feel like the little faults are forgivable.  and that brings me to midsommar. which is a bloated, self important hell film. honestly i would just write it off as insufferably boring if not for how it was received by the public. the way audiences interpreted this movie have created so much loathing in me for the movie itself. which AGAIN comes off to me as being superficial. all flash no substance. again not really any likable characters! which WOULD AHVE BEEN GREAT TO HAVE SINCE IT’S A LONG LONG ASS MOVIE. jeSUS it’s so god damn long did i watch a directors cut by accident or is it really three hours long?????? EITHER WAY it needs massive editing, there is so much garbage in there, it wants to have this deep lore and everything but there’s just too much!! like fucking pick your set dressing!!!! it’s just exhausting and pretentious that a director would think the audience really needs to see every single little thing you thought up like you’re not the second coming man, get ur point across and get out. i just don’t feel a heart or soul in the movie, it wasn’t fun to me to watch, or even haunting or traumatizing. it was just annoying the reason i keep fucking thinking about it is because i hate that i wasted time watching it and every time someone brings it up i feel SO mad that people really think this is what is the pinnacle of horror media when it feels like a gentrification of horror media. dress it up make it glossy and pretty, it feels corporate and sterile. and what is it w/ BOTH these movies dragging mental illness into for no fucking reason?? w/ in hereditary saying the dead mom had schizophrenia and dani’s sister in midsommar having bipolar? WHAT did that add to the movies?? other than villainizing people w/ mental illnesses REALLY what was the point? like this is one of those little details i was talking about earlier, like the fact that it’s in both movies really makes me fucking wonder. like if this was just some stupid little b movie that no one watched it would barely matter to me, but the fact that these movies are so fucking popular and there are so many of these ~le problematique~ features in these movies that everyone is willing to condemn the genre for! BUT THEIR STILL. HERE. makes me feel like people only give a shit about advocating for the awareness of the demonization of the mentally ill in horror media when the movie can’t be turned into pretty aesthetic gifsets. 

i’m not going to say no one is allowed to like these movies, like i said at the beginning to an extent, i can see their appeal, i admire the gross shock value that hereditary kind of has, and i can dig the serene aesthetic of midsommar. and you’re allowed to enjoy a movie that’s problematic, we all do, i’m not trying to “cancel” these movies. i do think ari aster has some thing about the genre down and i’d love to see him make a movie i can really enjoy. but jesus i will never ever ever come to enjoy these films, the really rub me the wrong way and i think they’re both too big for their britches. 

[charlie-boio]

The Only One For Me: Part Two

Summary: Everyone gets assigned a magical allegiance once they turn 16: Healers, Electrics, Shifters, and Darks, who were more often referred to as Voids. Once you reach 25, you no longer age until you meet soulmate.

After being outcasted by the world so long ago, Stiles Stilinski gave up on ever subjecting his soulmate to being with a Dark and decided that if the world would only ever treat him like it, he’ll be exactly what they wanted him to be: Void

Word Count: 10,098

A/N: My dudes I cannot BELIEVE I thought this ENTIRE story would be a 5k word fic lmao in total its over 16,000 words!! Also I know I said Wednesday but better late than never. Some of you wanted to be tagged which I’m so happy that you enjoyed the first part so much to be tagged in part two. This is the final part so I hope y’all enjoy it as much as I did. I do have new stuff coming soon! Anyways, I’m super proud of this so I hope you enjoy it too!!

**WARNINGS: NFSW! Self-harm, mentions of suicide, angst. On the smut side there’s fingering, oral (female receiving, mentions of male receiving), multiple orgasms (first detailed smut lmao). 

 The house shook after the door slammed shut. You laid there slumped on the ground, with a dumbfounded look on your face.

What the fuck just happened? We’re soulmates, we’re supposed to love each other…right?

You knew the stories of people who had met their soulmate then immediately were separated from them or if they couldn’t satisfy the sexual drive that heightens significantly after meeting. A lull falls over the both of you that could easily be described as a depression fog that clouds you both until you’re reunited once again.

You could already feel it heavy in your chest. Your heart pounded loudly in your eyes while you sunk further into the ground, sobbing loudly. What was wrong with you? Were you truly so unlovable that your soulmate hated you?

Mustering up your strength, you managed to pull yourself up from the floor, feeling embarrassed since your underwear had been torn to shreds by Stiles. You hurried yourself to Allison’s house, crying in her lap about everything that happened as she did her best to reassure you. Nothing worked. You went to bed, feeling worse by the second.

Too top everything off, you had killed someone. Someone you had known, and while he had taken a liking to shitting on Voids once he had gotten older, you couldn’t help but remember the sweet kid from grade school who had sat with you because you were new. And you had killed him, _and then proceeded to have sex?! What the fuck? _Those thoughts sunk you even lower. The tiny rational part of you that knew if you hadn’t of killed Adam, both you and Stiles would be dead, but you weren’t listening. Instead, you listened to the part of you that was convincing you that you were the worst person alive.

No wonder Stiles doesn’t want you. Who would want someone who just kills anyone then fucks someone else? You’re disgusting, pathetic. You don’t even deserve a soulmate.

Scott promised that he’d do everything he could to make Stiles talk to you, but every time he walked the long trail back from the Stilinski home, he never brought Stiles back with him. For five agonizing days, he actively avoided any sort of interaction with you while your thoughts spiraled deeper into self-loathing. He had to know that if you two continued to avoid each other like this what the consequences were; he couldn’t want that for you or him, could he…?

On day six you had decided that enough was enough. You had decided that you would invite him over, make him dinner, and you two would talk. You’d make it clear that you two could take it at whatever pace he felt comfortable with since he took extreme caution in who he’d let in his life. All you wanted was someone to spend the rest of your life with, and if that took some time, you were okay with that.

You gave yourself at least a thousand pep talks in the mirror, put on a cute blue sundress with sandals, and made your way up to his house.

Your heart thumped loudly in your chest, the nagging voice in your head begged you to turn right back around and crawl back under the covers, and your confidence was draining by the second. Nevertheless, you persisted, and before you knew it, you were standing in front of his door. Raising your hand, you attempted to knock on his door. However, something was blocking you from reaching the door. Confused, you tried again to knock, only to have your hand whipped backward, nearing removing your shoulder from its socket. You stood there for a second, dumbfounded, before the door finally swung up, revealing an extremely unhappy Stiles.

“What the fuck do you want?” he said, voice dripping with malice, making your stomach drop to the floor. His gaze pierced right through, jaw ticking in irritation.

Panicking, you said the first thing that came to your head, “Did you put a forcefield around your house to keep me out?” Stiles’ eyes hardened, his scowl deepening. Clearly, not the right thing to say as you mentally cursed yourself.

“You and Scott, who keeps pestering me like a goddamn dog. Now, I ask again, what do you fucking want?” he raised his voice at you, nearly shouting. You began to play with your fingers nervously. A dark voice in your head began to shout louder that you shouldn’t have bothered coming.

“I…I thought we needed to talk about this-“

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

You fumbled for a second, you could feel your breaths become shallower. This wasn’t how this conversation was supposed to go.

“Look, I don’t know why you don’t want to, but this is pretty important. We at least need to-“

“LOOK! There’s nothing to do, there’s nothing to say! I don’t want anything to do with you! You really thing I’m the type of guy to go around having a soulmate? No! I’m a Dark, and I’m Void! I don’t want a fucking soulmate, and I decided that a long time ago, so you need to get used to it. I don’t want to see you, talk to you, in fact, if I could, I would kick you out of my town! So do us all a favor, and get the fuck off of my property!” And with that, he slammed the door, once again leaving you alone.

The voice in your head laughed at you. Pathetic. You really thought that’d work. Are you two actually soulmates? Because if you were, you would’ve known that wouldn’t have worked. Obviously. Over and over those thought plagued you, and the tears flowed down your cheeks faster than you could process. Quickly placing a hand over your mouth, you tried your best to cover your sobs, not wanting to seem like you were begging for his attention. Well, you were, but you had a feeling things would only end up worse if you stayed here crying. He’d likely come out and just keep yelling at you.

Gathering up your shredded dignity, you turned around and began the lonely walk home.

*

Stiles thumped his head against the door, sliding down until he was sat against it. He banged his head three more times, each time harder than the last. Two sides of him were competing, the one wanting nothing more than to spend every ounce of his time with you, showering you with love and affection, showing you just how much he cared, how much he’s always cared. The other part was telling him how you’d want nothing to do with him, that you deserved far better than what he could offer, and he should just let you go and leave you to your life without him in it because that’s what’s best for you. Unfortunately, the latter part of him is winning.

Scott was up at his home every single day, telling him he should at least talk to you, and Stiles wanted nothing more than to do just that. Instead, he told Scott to fuck off every time, and eventually he put up that shield around his house, keeping everyone out. Stiles treated Scott the same way he treated you; he told him he wanted nothing to do with you or Scott, and that everyone should just leave him alone.

He told himself that this is for the best. He learned a long time ago that he couldn’t be loved. Not by anyone. Not even you…

He sat there against the wall, feeling worse by the second.

The next two days dragged from him. A part of him hoped that you would show up again, but you didn’t. He knew he had driven you away for good. He didn’t leave his house or bother to eat, none of it really feeling worth it. Stiles spent most of his time in bed, simultaneously sleeping way too much while having it feel like not enough.

On day three, he felt his forcefield shake, meaning someone had tried to at least knock on the door. He ran from his bedroom, hoping it was you. He couldn’t help but feel disappointed when it was Scott on the other side.

“What do you want,” Stiles muttered, not having any energy.

“Oh? No ‘Fuck you,’ for me today?” Scott’s tone was biting, and his face wasn’t friendly. Stiles looked at him with shock, he hadn’t spoken to him like that before. “Look, Stiles, I’ve tried to be nice about this whole ‘you avoid your fucking soulmate’ bit, but enough is enough. You need to at least talk to her! You’re soulmates for a fucking reason! You consider me your friend, right?”

“Yes, I-“

“Then quit shutting us out, shutting _me _out, and shutting y/n out because let’s not forget the fact that she saved your fucking life. Without her, you’d be dead, you understand? Even if she wasn’t your soulmate, you should at least, the very fucking least thank her!” Scott slammed his hand against the forcefield. “All any of us want is for you to be happy, and to get out of your deep mistrust of people because look around! This entire place is filled with Darks and people who don’t give a shit about your magical allegiance if you’re a good person. We’re not going to cast you away, Stiles, all we want is to help you,” Scott’s tone changed from anger to sympathy as he spoke.

The forcefield Stiles had been maintaining began to fade away, mostly out exhaustion on Stiles’ end to keep it up. Still, he couldn’t help but let his walls start to crack after all these years of keeping them up.

“Scott…I don’t deserve her. I’m not enough,” Stiles whispered, holding back his tears. Old habits die hard.

“You don’t know that,” Scott took a step forward and placed a hand on Stiles’ shoulder. “Just talk to her man.” Scott continued with his speech, but Stiles stopped listening, suddenly feeling and overwhelm urge that something was wrong.

“Scott…where does y/n live?” Stiles said so quietly that Scott almost missed it. Scott noticed instantly his tone wasn’t of resolve to see you, but of panic.

“Um, wha-“

“Where does she live?” Stiles said, louder and more urgently. He grabbed at Scott’s shoulders, panic in his eyes while Scott’s also widened in fear at how Stiles was acting.

“Um, three houses from Allison-“

“Is she there now?!”

“Uh-ye-yeah I think-“ Stiles didn’t bother hearing the rest of what Scott had to say as he shoved him aside and bolted down the path

Please don’t be too late, he thought. Please, don’t be too late!

*

You had decided that day that you’d end your life. You had read countless stories on how soulmates who had been separated or died before they got to know each other. The survivor usually killed themselves after they’ve aged another ten years. Usually, the were miserable the entire time with their powers draining to the point where some couldn’t even access their abilities anymore. You didn’t want to come to that fate. If it was inevitable, you’d get it out of the way, saving yourself from years of grief and giving Stiles the life he wanted.

You sat next to the bathtub, swirling the water around with your hand. Honestly, you weren’t sure why you had it on; you weren’t going to get in. Maybe to make it easier?

You looked at the silver dagger, a gift from one of your old friends who were driven out of your hometown for being a Dark, and decided it was now or never. Picking up the blade, you pressed the tip to the skin on your wrist, tears streaking down your cheeks. You didn’t want to die; you wanted a life with your soulmate, with Stiles. But he didn’t want you…God, you’ve never felt so unlovable in your entire fucking life.

Taking a deep breath, you let the blade slowly cut through your skin, seeing the crimson blood leak out slowly.

Then the door flew open, startling you and causing you to jump. You jerked your head in the direction of the open doorway with Stiles standing there. He was breathing heavily, his forehead covered in sweat. Seeing the knife in your hand, his eyes widened.

For a split second, neither of you moved, unsure what to do.

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?” Stiles sprang into action, rushing toward grabbing. Forcefully, he ripped the knife out of your hand and flung it toward the wall where it stuck like a bullseye. Gently but with fever, he grabbed your shoulders and ran you over to the nearby sink, turning on the water and thrusting your wrist into the stream. He used his finger to wipe away at the blood.

“It’s not that bad…it’s not that bad…” he whispered, mostly to reassure himself. After cleaning out the cut as best he could, he ran around your bathroom, frantically opening drawers and cabinets until he found the first aid kit. He pulled out the disinfectant and began to work, cleaning the wound and bandaging it up as best he could. He took in a shaky breath once he realized that you were going to be okay.

Meanwhile, you had merely been staring at him, eyes wide while you watched him work to patch you up. This didn’t make sense. I thought he didn’t care…

You two stayed like that for a few minutes, you staring at him while he stared at your arm, his thumb smoothing over the bandage. Every so often he would dip down and press his lips to your wrist.

After what felt like an eternity, you heard Stiles mumble something, but you couldn’t decipher it.

“Hm?” you hummed softly, trying not to scare him away.

“Why…” he whispered, finally lifting his head to look at you properly, tears welling in his eyes.

You were confused. “What?”

Suddenly, he grabbed your shoulders roughly, forcing you to stand and walk backwards until your back was pressed against a wall. Tears fell openly across his face while he looked at you with a mixture of pain, panic, and…love?

“Why? Why would you do that? Why would you even think to…just please! Don’t do that please just tell me why?” Stiles was pressing you, his voice becoming shakier with each passing word.

“BECAUSE YOU DON’T CARE!” You shouted angrily. Stiles jumped back, his eyes wide with shock and fear. He still held you at an arm’s length away. You took a deep breath before continuing. “Look…if you want to spend the rest of your life alone without…without a soulmate, go right ahead. I won’t stop you. I want you to live the life you want. But I can’t follow that path. I won’t lie, this past week and a half has been absolutely miserable, and I won’t let myself spend the next years just withering away. I won’t, I can’t…I’m sorry” your voice faded away once you were finished speaking.

Stiles dipped his head low, not meeting your eye. His grip on your shoulders tightened while you two stayed there for another few moments of agonizing silence.

“I want everything for you,” Stiles spoke, voice wavering as his tears fell quicker than they were before. “I want you to have the life you deserve. A life that you want for yourself, a life filled with every opportunity that you could ever imagine. But…I’m a Dark…all my opportunities are gone, the world just won’t let me have even a chance. I can’t give that to you, I can’t give you want you deserve.”

“But what about what I want?” Stiles’ eyes snapped up to meet yours with a hopeful look in them. “What I want, more than anything, is you. My soulmate. I want you with me. I’ve been waiting my entire life to meet you and show you just how much I care about you. I don’t need anything else. And I promise you, Stiles, that no matter what hell you went through to get to where you are now, I promise I’m not going to run away. I’ll be right here, by your side. Like how we are meant to be. You’re the only one for me,”

Stiles head fell forward until your foreheads were pressed together. You could hear him take in shaky breaths as he tried to calm himself down.

“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry. I didn’t mean what I said, I just-I don’t-I’ve never had someone like you in my life before. I shouldn’t have ran away that day…I just got so scared that I would fuck things up, then I went ahead and fucked things up. I’m sorry…I’m sorry…”

He moved his head to the crook between your neck and shoulder, wrapping his arms tightly around you. He continued to mumble constant apologizes while you reassured him. You could feel his warm tears soak the front of your shirt as he breaths became less ragged until finally his breathing was slow and deep; your heartbeats in sync with each other. The depression fog you had felt after that day slowly began to lift with a sense of peace washing over the both of you.

Stiles was the first to pull back, taking one step away. You looked at each other, the sexual tension dropping in out of nowhere.

Seriously? You thought. You can’t wait? We’re having a moment! Of course you knew how it was with the first few days interacting with your soulmate. Biology stops for no one.

His hand slid down until you two were holding hands, giving you a small smile in the process. The other hand ran through his hair nervously.

“Um…th-that day, uh, after we-um-after we-“

“Had sex?” you offered. A deep blush settled onto his cheeks, his eyes widened at your bluntness.

“Uh, yeah, well…” Stiles trailed off, gripping your hand tighter.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” you said, gently placing your other hand on top of his. “I’m not gonna bolt out the door at a personal question. We’re soulmates, we should probably know each other pretty well, or at least know what our favorite color is,” Stiles laughed at your comment, and while it wasn’t a long or loud laugh, you still felt accomplished.

“…yellow,” Stiles said with smile still split across his face. “It’s yellow.”

You smiled back at him, giggling at the irony. “So’s mine,” He grin brightened. “So…what did you want to ask me?”

Stiles pressed his lips into a thin line before clearing his throat, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. The sexual tension laid thick between you two, appear almost out of nowhere. “Were you a virgin before we had sex?” Sex wasn’t something he often talked about, so talking about it so openly, especially with you, still made him a little uncomfortable.

You squeezed his hand, silently congratulating him for that minor win. “I was. I had a boyfriend back in my hometown…Adam…”

Stiles eyes widened, his jaw falling to the floor. “You dated the guy that almost killed me?” He nearly shouted, tone harsh.

You scowled at him. “I killed him, Stiles, to save you. I…I didn’t even think twice…” Your face quickly changed from anger to…sadness? No, that wasn’t right. Stiles had seen that look on his face numerous times. Guilt.

He panicked slightly, unsure of what to do. He’s never really comforted someone before. Looking back now, it seems like everyone else was always taking care of him. With his panic rising, he blurted the first things he could think of.

“Thank you, y/n. Seriously. If you hadn’t of done that, I wouldn’t be standing here right now…with you,” you looked at him with a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. Fuck. He wasn’t good at this. “Um…I think it would also be good to talk to someone about it…”

“Not you?”

“Y/n I-“ love you. He’d almost said it but caught himself. He did, he had loved his soulmate from the second he found out he had one, but he had just gotten you after nearly losing you. He didn’t want to scare you away. “-care about you. So much. But…we’ve just met. Right now, we don’t know too much about each other, and believe me, I plan to spend every single moment I can getting to know you, but I am in no position to give you advice about this because I don’t know how to help you,” he squeezed your hand gently, moving the other to cup your face, his thumb wiping away the stray tear. “Awhile ago, Scott had dragged me out to see a therapist that’s around here. I only went twice, but honestly I wish I had kept going. She was really helpful, and she said things that I just wasn’t ready to hear, so I got angry and left. But she’s part of the reason I was able to venture out of the house once in a fucking blue moon…or go to dinner with Scott and his friends-“

“You know, they’re your friends too,” you whispered.

Stiles nodded, more to reiterate that point to himself. “I think you should see her. She’d be able to help you know a lot more than I could. But I’ll tell you this: Y/n, it wasn’t out of malice what you did. I promise. If you hadn’t of killed him…I would’ve died. And I think he would’ve killed you after finishing with me. No, scratch that. I don’t think. I know. Come here,” he pulled you forward until your cheek was pressed against his shoulder, his arms around you again, only this time it was him comforting you.

“You underestimate yourself, Stiles. I feel a little better thanks to you,” Stiles hummed, the vibrations hitting your cheek. “Would…would you come with me? It’s not too late to go back…”

He hesitated for a moment, then answered, “Yeah, I’ll go with you. I owe her an apologize. I owe a lot of people an apology…” you shushed him quietly, not letting him sink into his usual self-loathing. This time, you pulled back, smiling up at him. He returned the smile, making you realize just how little you’ve seen him smile, but loving it all the same.

Of course, the sexual tension from earlier had decided to hit you both like a goddamn truck. You’ve got to be fucking me, you thought. Despite what you knew, you tried to suppress your desires, not wanting to mess up this moment with him.

Unfortunately, Stiles had already felt it, and you saw his nervous ticks return. An awkward silence joined the room besides the heavy sexual tensions, clearly a perfect combination. This continued for a few painstakingly long minutes, neither of you sure of what to do.

Stiles cleared his throat, “Um…how-how come you never…did anything with him?” he asked tensely, trying not to break the delicate peace you two had achieved.

“Well…he wasn’t my soulmate,” you said slowly. “Once I had found out about them, I had felt guilty for taking that step with someone else. Even if I was drunk.” You shrugged. “But if you had sex with others, I’m not gonna freak out or anything, that’s just how I felt. I couldn’t do it even if I wanted to.”

Stiles looked down at his feet. He had felt the same way before, but once the world abandoned him, he thought he’d never meet his soulmate. He silently cursed himself, regretting every other sexual encounter that he had. “I’m guessing that wasn’t how you imagined your first time would be,” he said sadly.

You shook your head. “No, it wasn’t, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t like it,” A smile flickered across his face. His hands slid down your body before they were settling on your hips, pulling you close to him. Your eyes looked into his honey ones. He bit his lip, his stare full of lust, want, yet it was also pleading with you.

“Can-can I try again?” he whispered, nearly inaudible. But you heard him, and all you could manage to do was nod, unable to find the words.

Tentatively, he moved his hands until they were gently cupping your face before he pressed his lips to yours. It was different from before. It was soft, almost like he was afraid to break you. Your hands moved to wrap around his neck, bringing both of you closer together than before. You felt your hearts beat together, signifying how this was all meant to be.

Slowly, the kiss became more heated, his tongue darting out to meet yours. His hands roamed freely around your body, ghosting over your breasts to settle back on your hips, giving them a squeeze.

“Jump,” he breathed out between kisses. You happily complied, wrapping your legs around his torso once again, only instead of him pressing you up against the wall, he walked out of the bathroom and into your bedroom, placing you down gently onto the mattress as he hovered over you, smiling down at you before kissing you once again. He slid his hand up and down your thigh before lifting it up and slotting it against hip, rocking his hardened cock into your core while you rolled your hips up to meet his needy thrusts. Everything happening was slowly, but deliberately.

Leaning back, Stiles skimmed his hands down the hem of your shirt, tugging for a second before lifting it above your head and tossing it over his shoulder, not caring where it landed. Since you had forgone a bra, your chest was completely bare to him. He bit his lip, looking up at you, his once honey brown eyes were now almost jet black, blown wide with lust. He moved his hands to cup your breasts, squeezing them roughly, his lips brushing at your neck.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he muttered into your neck, causing you to moan out and arched your back toward him. “’M gonna take care of you, ‘M gonna take such good care of you baby I promise. I’ll fuck you so good…so good,” He continued to palm your tits before dipping down and sealing his lips around your nipple, swirling his tongue around the hardened peak. Frantically, you grabbed the back of his head, threading your fingers through his dark hair before grasping them roughly.

“Fuck, Stiles…” you moaned, closing your eyes tightly at the sensations he was giving you, his tongue moving expertly across your chest, leaving angry red marks in his wake. You relished in the feeling, never wanted it to end.

Reluctantly, he removed his mouth from your breast with a pop, reaching behind him to remove his shirt and toss it. He shifted down further, feather touching your body until he reached the waistband of your shorts. Looping his fingers, he dragged them down your legs slowly. Too slowly. After they were thrown off you, Stiles massaged his fingertips into your thighs, spreading your legs wider to expose your covered core to him. Leaning forward, he kissed the inside of your thighs, trailing around your panties and nibbling on your hipbones. His fingers slid up and down your covered core, feeling your wetness through the soaked panties.

“Stiles…please, please…” you begged. He looked back up at you, his movements stilling. He had a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“As you wish, anything for you my dove, anything,”

Not taking as much care as before, he threw your panties off you, groaning at the sight of your glistening folds. Adjusting himself so he was on his stomach, he circled his hands around your thighs, placing one final kiss on each one before he dived right in, licking a long stripe from your entrance to your clit. You cried out instantly at the contact, your hips leaving the bed to roll into his face. That barely lasted a second while his arm snaked around and pressed your hips back down.

He began to suck on your clit harshly, flicking various patterns across the bud. His other hand moved to probed at your entrance, circling one finger around before he was sinking it in knuckle deep. He swirled his finger around slowly, thrusting a couple times before adding a second finger into your warm wet core. He glanced up to look at you, only to find your head thrown back in ecstasy, soft moans exhaling through your lips.

He tipped your head forward. “Open your eyes dove, I wanna see you fall apart please,” Stiles’ voice was low and sultry.

You pried your eyes open, but they so heavy, every limb in your body felt boneless. “Stiles…I-I don’t know how long-“

“Keep them open as long as you can baby, I know you can do it,” Stiles’ mouth was back on your clit, slick sounds filled the room as he pumped his fingers at a speed that was nearly incomprehensible, but his eyes were on yours, pupils dilating even more at the state you were in.  Your moans grew louder, his name spilling from your lips over and over again. The coil in your stomach tightened further while you clenched desperately around his fingers, drawing him in further and further.

“Stiles, I-I’m close!” you panted out.

“S’okay, baby, let go I’ve got you, I’ve got you baby,” And with a particular thrust of his fingers and another harsh suck on your clit, you came undone. Closing your eyes tightly and throwing your head back, you orgasm crushed over you, shaking your entire body as you grabbed the sheets of the bed. His tongue continued to work against you, lapping up all your juices from you. You jerked and spasmed in his grip, toes curling at the over-stimulation until he pulled away, smiling cockily at you and wiping his chin with the back of his hand.

Stiles hovered over you once again, bracing himself on one forearm while the gripped your right hip. He peppered kisses on your forehead, cheeks, and across your face. Meanwhile, you were sucking in deep breaths trying to calm your racing heart. He smiled down at you, kissing the tip of your nose and giving you time to recover from your intense orgasm.

“You okay? Was that alright, not too rough?” he whispered, his tone sweet and laced with adoration. You nodded, still breathless.

“It was perfect,” you whimpered.

He smiled against your skin, moving his kisses from your face to your jaw, trailing down to your neck. “Good,” he said. “I wanted it to be perfect. I want _everything _to be perfect for you. I want absolutely everything for you, my dove,” he continued to kiss your neck softly, not pressing any further to let you recover. “Do you want to take a break? We do have to keep going,” your heart melting at his words, a smile tugging at your lips.

“It’s okay, I want to keep going,” you said confidently.

“Good,” he smiled genuinely at you, placing a chaste but sweet kiss to your lips. You sighed into the kiss, disappointed when it ended all too soon.

Stiles moved to stand, undoing the belt on his jeans quickly. Popping the button, he dragged his jeans down with his boxer. Your eyes widened, staring directly at his cock. It was large, bigger than what you remembered, although your last experience had been a lust-filled blur you can’t really remember it. Honestly, it felt rude to stare, but you couldn’t help it. The head was leaking with precum, and instinctively you bit your lip.

After a moment, you flicked your eyes up to see Stiles’ gaze already on yours, a cocky smirk stamped on his face. “Whatcha doing?” he said teasingly. You blushed, now doing everything in your power to avoid looking at his dick.

“Um…is-is it gonna fit?” Stiles laughed loudly at that.

“Baby, it fit before!”

“Well, I wasn’t really pay attention before!” Now you were laughing, breaking the awkward tension that had started to form. You sat forward, reaching your hand out to stroke him before he stopped you.

“Tonight, my dove, is all about you,” he said, pushing you gently back to lie among the covers again.

He crawled up toward to, spreading your legs wide and slotting his hips against yours, running his cock up and down your folds, which were still completely soaked from your previous orgasm. Stiles tipped your head forward again, the playful look from before was gone and replaced with a serious one. His eyes, however, expressed such love for one, that maybe one day he hoped to be able to find the courage to explain how intense his feelings are. Instead, he pressed a quick kiss to your lips.

“Are you sure?” he checked one last time. You smiled at him, nodding your head.

Placing another kiss, he lined himself up at your entrance and slowly began to push himself in. You gasped, still not used to having someone inside you. He took his time, moving his cock in inch by inch until he was seated in you completely, his hips pressed up against your own. He bit his lip, trying not to cum just by being inside your warm, wet, and tight pussy.

Your hands grabbed at his shoulders. “Move, Stiles, please! Please!” you begged.

“I’ve got you, dove,” Slowly, he moved his hips back, pulling out nearly all the way before sliding back. He started slow, but each thrust into you was precise, hitting all the right places inside you. The pleasure was building in your stomach as he got deeper and deeper inside you. He was taking his time fucking you, not wanting to rush anything.

Your legs wrapped around him, locking together at your ankles so he was able to sink even deeper into you. His hot breath was against your neck, moaning out your name.

“Oh fuck, you’re so tight baby,” he said, thrusting in between each punctuation. “You feel so good, so fucking good, oh my god. Fuck! You’re so warm, s’good. You were made for me, dove, made for me in every possible way,” With each thrust, he picked up his speed while your fingernails dug crescent shaped moons into his skin, your mind becoming foggy with only his name running through your mind. You felt every throb of him each time he pounded into you while his whispered filthy things in your ear, spurring you on even further as you got closer and closer to the edge for the second time.

“Want more baby? Need more from me?” you let out a moan, unable to find words. He chuckled at your fucked-out state. Stilling for just a moment (you let out an uncomfortable whine), he shifted your leg to settle over his shoulder. He picked a grueling pace, thrusting into you again. By now, your moans were loud, you were pratically screaming out his name as he fucked you into oblivion. Somehow, Stiles kept up this punishing pace, chasing his own climax.

Eventually, his thrusts grew sloppy and needy, his orgasm nearing closer and closer.

“Stiles-“ was all of a warning you could muster that you were close too. He looked at you and pressed two of his fingers against your lips, slipping through into your mouth. You sucked on them languidly, Stiles’ eyes slipping shut as he groaned.

Pulling them out with a pop, he slid his hand back down, pressing hard against against your overly abused clit. One quick circle around the bud was all it took for you to come crashing over the edge, cumming harshly as your orgasm took over your entire body, flooding all of your senses like fire rushing up through your veins. Every single part of you shook, waves of pleasure flooding over you while Stiles fucked you through your orgasm until he came himself with a shout of your name on his lips, his cum coating your walls. That was the last thing you remembered before blacking out completely.

When you came too, you had another pair of panties on along with his shirt, and you were tucking under the covers. You pried your eyes open, only to find that Stiles was nowhere to be found. You panicked, thought that he had left you again. You stood, maneuvering on shaky legs toward the bedroom door. Leaning against the wall, you opened the door as best you could.

“Stiles,” you called. No response. Dread pooled in your stomach as your anxiety heightened even further. Did he leave again? “STILES?” you shouted.

“Baby?” he said, sounding far away. You let out a breath, relieved. You heard him climb the stairs, taking two at a time. Stiles peered around the corner, shirtless with only his boxer briefs on and a glass of water in his hand. He rushed up to you, placing a quick peck on your forehead before running into the bedroom to place the glass of water on the nightstand. Walking back to you, he scooped you up and carried you bridal style back onto the bed. “What’s wrong? Why did you get up?” he asked, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I-I got worried…it seems a little silly now,” you said, not meeting his eyes.

Stiles chuckled, then nodded over to the floor, “My pants and shoes are still here dove, I highly doubt I’ll be going anywhere without those,” he said, his tone playful. You looked to the floor, a giggle on your lips as you laughed at your obliviousness. “And besides,” he said, leaning and pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, “I’m not going anywhere.” Stiles shuffled you around until you were laying a cheek on his chest, his heartbeat thumping steadily against your ear while your legs tangled together.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“Go to sleep, my dove.”

*

You two spent the next week in bed, pretty much just fucking the entire time. Sometimes it was slow and loving, him thrusting into you slow and deep, dragging out your experience together. Other times it was rough, him tugging on your hand as he pounded into you with godlike speed. You’d ride on his cock, tits bouncing for him while he left fingerprint bruises into your skin, he’d have you on your knees choking on his cock, or he’d pound you from behind, pulling your back against his chest while he muttered what a good girl you were for taking him so well.

In between the sex, you two would talk about everything and nothing all at once. You found that he still had a little trouble opening up to you, which you knew would take some time. However, you would be here with open arms whenever he felt ready. Nevertheless, you still saw parts of him that you never expected: he was shy, sweet, but at the same time he was really funny. Even a little charismatic at times. You could also see just how much he cared about other people. It was buried, yes, but there.

In return, he learned so much about you. You told plenty of childhood stories, from when you broke your leg by falling down two steps of stairs (“Hey! I was frail five-year-old!”) to the time on Halloween when you dressed as a werewolf and instead of saying “trick or treat!” at the door, you howled.

Things weren’t always so easy, once your little sexapade ended. A lifetime trauma of neglect wasn’t going to disappear overnight, and neither was the looming guilt that you killed someone. Early on, it had been frustrating when Stiles got into his moods or had a bad day. He’d reverted into his cold exterior shell that wouldn’t open for anyone, not even you. All you wanted to do was help and he wouldn’t let you. Some of the bad days, he wouldn’t let you out of his sight. Other times, he’d get angry at your mere presence. He’d shut you out and you’d angry, only for him to come around and apologize. You had decided that this wasn’t exactly healthy and came up with a solution that seemed to work for him. He’d tell you if he was having a bad day, and you’d ask if he want to talk about, wanted you to distract him from it by talking, wanted you to just hold him, or wanted to be left alone. You thanked your therapist for the idea, and it worked wonders.

Even for you, when you had your first bad day, Stiles was in a particularly good mood, and you didn’t want to spoil it for him with your own troubles. But he was smart and caught on pretty quick that something was wrong. You had immediately started sobbing, thinking you had ruined everything when he used your own tricks against you.

The only caveat was when you both had a bad day, but overtime, your guys’ bad days became less and less frequent. You had made it a point for Stiles to go outside at least once a day, either with you or Scott, and to join all of your friends for dinner whenever they got together. Of course, he’d been reluctant to go, but eventually he did more than just sit there with a brooding look on his face. He made small comments every now and then, even allowing himself to chuckle at a joke or two. It was small progress, but progress, nonetheless.

It had been three years since you and Stiles had found each other, and for the first time in a long time you were nervous, pacing back and forth around the living room of Stiles’ home. You had asked Scott for help in distracting Stiles while you got everything ready. Slowly, your negative thoughts overcame you. Maybe this was a bad idea… you thought. Maybe it’s not too late to fix it! Unfortunately, just as your resolve to do this had dwindle, you heard the doorknob turn. You gasped, turning to see Stiles walk through the door, a small smile on his lips as his eyes met yours.

“Hey Stiles,” you said, forcing a smile as best you could.

“Hey, my dove,” he responded, taking quick steps over to turn. Placing his large hands on your waist, he pulled you closer, leaning down to kiss you, which you happily returned, thinking that you had fooled him. Obviously, you had been wrong.

“Bad day?” he muttered into your lips. “What do you need from me baby?”

“Um, uh, not a bad day,” you stuttered.

“Nervous? You haven’t been nervous in awhile baby,” he squeezed at your waist reassuringly.

“Well, um, I-“

“Flustered now too? Are you sure everything’s okay?” Stiles peered down at you, worry swimming in his eyes.

You couldn’t handle that look in his eyes much longer, “I sold my house!” you blurted out.

Stiles’ eyebrows shot up to his hairline as his jaw fell open. He took a few steps back, scratching as the back of his neck nervously. “Um…come again?” he asked.

You sighed, willing yourself to focus your gaze on him. “I, uh, sold my house. There was this really nice family that was moving in, and their budget was super limited and I felt really, really bad honestly it was just so spur of the moment and-“

“Y/n, where are you going to live?” he asked, running a hand through his hair.

“Um, I was kinda hoping I could move in with you?” you said slowly. Stiles mouth formed an ‘o’ shape as he finally understood. “Look, I’m already here nearly every single night with you, and we’re actually running out of homes here because it’s no longer just single people coming it’s whole families! And I really don’t need the space especially since all my time is with you, which I absolutely love by the way, and they were pretty desperate to find a home so next thing I knew I was offering up my house, and your really should’ve seen their faces, and-“ he cut you off, grabbing your face roughly and pressing his lips against yours, slipping his tongue inside with ease.

Pulling away, he smiled at you. “I would love for you to move in with me,” Stiles said with a goofy grin on his face.

You squealed, jumping into his arms while he spun you around, both of your laughter filling the air.

“So, should we go and get your stuff?” Stiles asked after setting you down.

A blush crept onto your cheeks as you smiled nervously. “About that,” you drawled out. “I, uh, may or may not of had Scott distract you so I could move in all of my things,”

Stiles furrowed his eyebrows, jerking his head to look around the room. “Um? It literally looks the same baby,”

“Well, there wasn’t much to move, considering I had practically all of my belongings here for almost half a year now,” you said, with a sudden realization. “But there was something I had to move over, wait here!” you ran over, placing a quick peck on his cheek before into your now shared bedroom, opening a box and filing through all the different pieces to find the letters that you had written to your soulmate before you knew it was Stiles. Gathering up the small bundle, you excitedly rushed out to a waiting Stiles. “Um, when I first heard I had a soulmate, at six, I had wanted to write you a whole bunch of letters, but my parents restricted me to one a year, so,” you chuckled nervously seeing Stiles’ eyes widened, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Wait here,” he said quickly before running out of the room. You sat down on the couch, a little confused. When he returned, your jaw dropped to the floor with the enormous pile of letters, nearly overflowing and falling out of his arms because there were so many. “Um, my parents didn’t restrict me, but looking at it now, maybe they should have,”

“Holy fuck Stiles!” you laughed. “How many are there?”

“I think I lost count after around sixty-four...?”

“SIXTY-FOUR?” By now, you couldn’t stop laughing at the absurdity of it, but at the same time your heart melting at the fact that he cared so much for you then, even if you didn’t know him.

Stiles smiled fondly at you. “You should read some of them, I probably should’ve kept them in order…”

You chuckled, plucking a random one from the pile and tearing it open. This one was from when he was nine, telling you about some of the new friends he made in fourth grade, how he loves science and hates English, and how he finally has all of his grown-up teeth in. He also complimented you, saying that no matter what you looked like, you were already the prettiest girl in the world. You smiled at how adorable he was, only for it to turn into a sad one as you wondered what happened.

The next letter was a cringey one from when he was 13 and writing some God-awful poetry (“Hey, Romeo and Juliet really hit it home for me!” he had told you.) You cringed the whole time reading it but smiled at his efforts.

The last letter you grabbed was from when he was 15. His birthday was a few months away, and Stiles was spending his time wondering what his magical allegiance would be. He seen some of his older friends with powers, and they looked cool as fuck! He also mentioned how he now despises science thanks to a teacher named Mr. Harris, and his girlfriend had recently broken up with him. He said how sorry he was for dating her, thinking maybe she was you, but now he knew it wasn’t, and he was going to try his best to be patient waiting for, but he was just so excited to meet you so he could spend the rest of his loving you. He signed it “Love, Stiles” that’s how he signed every letter.

“You had a girlfriend?” you asked, a hint of teasing in your voice.

“Yeah, uh, she broke up with me when she tried to kiss me, but I couldn’t kiss her back.”

“Why not?”

“Because she wasn’t my soulmate; she wasn’t YOU. I wanted my first kiss to be with them, and she had gotten really angry and broke up with me on the spot,” his smile faltered as he talked. “I really wish I had kept that mindset…” he trailed off, not meeting your eye.

“You know, I’m not angry at you for that,” you said sympathetically.

“I-I know, I know!” he said quickly. “It’s just, I wish it could’ve been as special as yours was,” Stiles reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out another letter. “This is the final one I wrote to you. I had just turned sixteen,” he whispered.

His hand was shaky slightly as he held it out for you. You knew that he was opening up to you like never before.

Slowly, you opened the letter. It was shorter than the other ones you read.

Dear Soulmate,

I’m fucked. Forever fucked. Oh God why did this have to happen to me? What the fuck did I do wrong?

I thought I could be different, but I was wrong. Even my parents are still afraid of me, afraid of what I can supposedly do. I won’t use my powers. I won’t, even if it does slowly kill me.

They all hate me now will you hate me too?

Please don’t hate me

I love you.

Tears welled in your eyes. You looked up at Stiles, only to see him avoiding your gaze, much more interested in the floor.

“Stiles,” you said quietly. He looked up at you, his shoulders slumped low. “You don’t have to say anything.”

“I want to,” he said, his eyes fixed onto you. “I want to…”

He shuffled for a second, scratching at his face and running a hand through his hair. He leaned heavily against the wall, his head low again. “It was instant,” he started. “The change. One minute I had loads of friends, and the next they all despised me, throwing insult after insult. Some just pretended I didn’t exist. Quite honestly, I don’t know which hurt more, but either way, they all abandoned me when I needed them the most,” Stiles took in another shaky breath before continuing. “Everything changed. I got detention once for breaking a pencil and going up to sharpen it. I became what everyone thought I would be not because its who I am, but because they made me feel I had no other choice. I started getting death threats everyday that they just became normal. I tried reporting them, but everyone just assumed I was lying because I’m a Void right? It’s in my goddamn nature!” His voice had risen considerably, feeling something shift inside of him now that he was letting this part of his past go.

“My parents were the only ones that still loved me, and they burned down my fucking house because of it. They killed the only people who were willing to give me a chance, who were willing to love me despite everything that had happened to me, and I just got so angry that day. So fucking angry. I decided to throw everyone out of this town. I didn’t want to kill them, I just wanted to be left alone. I didn’t mean to start this whole safe haven bit, but once people heard, Darks just came here so they could finally live under the sun, because they knew exactly what I had been through.

“Now the whole world has changed. Some safe havens didn’t even need to fight! Their governor or whoever the fuck just said ‘Hey this place is open for Darks! Don’t like it? Fuck off, then,’ and people just accepted it. They’re all over the entire world now! All because I just wanted the people who used to love me to go away, I didn’t intend any of this…and sometimes I wonder what would’ve happened if you had known me back then…would you still love me?”

“Stiles, of course I would still love you!” you exclaimed, the tears streaking down your face. “You’re parents loved you-“

“They had to. I was their only son…”

“And I was my parents’ only daughter, and they didn’t think twice before throwing me out into the streets,” you said, eyebrows furrowing. “They throw me out without even a second glance. That’s how a lot of Darks ended up in the dark corners of the world; their parents threw them out. But not yours, Stiles, because they truly loved you,” you stood, walking slowly over to stand in front of Stiles. His cheeks were shiny with tears, but his eyebrows weren’t furrowed, and the tension in his face was gone. You reached up to cup his face in your hands. “I know you didn’t intend it, but you changed the world for the better. And…I’ve learned that the people who truly love you won’t care about something you have no control over. They love you for you, just like I love you, Stiles”

His arms snaked around your waist, settling on your lower back while he pressed his forehead to yours. “I love you. So much. I’ve loved you since the second I’ve heard about even having a soulmate. I loved you that first day I saw you eating ice cream with our friends. I’ve loved you my whole life…you’re part of the reason I didn’t succumb to my isolation. I thought about getting rid of those letters, but every time I tried, I couldn’t do you because I love you, and deep down, I knew that you loved me too.”

“I do love you, Stiles,”

“I know, if there’s one thing I’m absolutely sure about, its that you love me, and I love you,”

*

“Congratulations on the engagement!” Stiles said, patting his friend on the back.

“Thanks man,” Scott said, smiling his big goofy grin. “I’m so excited to finally marry her, when are you gonna pop the question for y/n?”

Stiles smiled with a twinkle in his eye. “Oh, I have a plan,” he said rather nonchalantly.

“Will I be informed of this plan?”

“No,”

“Bro! Come on, I’m your best friend,” Scott made it a point to bring that up nearly everyday since Stiles told him that.

“I know, BUT you’ll tell Allison, who will then tell y/n, making it not be a surprise anymore, and I want it to be a surprise,”

“Fair enough,”

They continued on for a moment in silence. Not the awkward silence from years before when Scott had to drag him out of the house, but a comfortable one. One between good friends.

“Hey,” Scott said, stopping in his tracks for a moment. Stiles looked at him concerned. “I just wanted to say how proud of you I am. You’ve really come a long way,”

“So has the world. How many safe havens did you say there are now?”

“I think it’s around 250?”

Stiles whistled lowly at that. “Oh, um, thank you,” he said, with more awkwardness then he had intended.

“Of course,” Scott said sincerely, saving the moment.

“Um, actually, if you don’t mind, I could use a favor,”

“Anything,”

*

It was a lazy day for you. Stiles had woken you after a night of mind-blowing sex to tell you that he was leaving for a bit to hang with Scott. You didn’t mind. After all, you were pretty sore. You could use the extra rest.

Unfortunately, you had slept another five hours, sleeping through Stiles entire visit with Scott. You would’ve kept sleeping too, had Stiles not woken you up.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” he said sweetly, gently shaking your shoulder.

“Mmm,” you whined. “More sleep,”

“Baby, its almost one in the afternoon!” he laughed incredulously at you.

You sighed, peaking one eye open to look at him. “So?”

“So,” he drawled. “I have a surprise for.”

You shot up at his words. “For me? It’s not my birthday or our anniversary…”

“Come on now, I can’t surprise my lovely girlfriend just this once?” he said, tone a little smug but you didn’t mind.

“What is it?”

He smiled, holding out an envelope for you, and for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t nervous about it. Giving him a playful but confused look, you took the envelope and peered inside.

“Plane tickets?” you looked up at him, a smile spreading slowly. “Where are we going?”

“Everywhere. Anywhere. I’ve always wanted to travel the world, and when I found out I was a Void, I didn’t think it was possible, but with the way the world is now, I don’t see why not. I picked out our first destination, but after that, its up to you,” Stiles took your hand in his, squeezing gently. “I was also thinking that, even though I never meant to, I started this massive shift in the world. I want to do more good, and I to abolish the safe havens so that we don’t need sacred places to live. We could live wherever we want to live because we’re no different. I’m hoping with you by my side, you could help me with that.” He smiled at you hopefully, and it took you no time to think of your answer.

“Yes, yes of course!” you exclaimed, pulling him down to kiss him passionately.

“Alright, we’re leaving today. Quick! Get dressed! Start packing we’ve got a lot to do baby!” He kissed quickly again before running off, babbling on for what you and him needed to do.

In no time at all, you two found yourselves at the front gate, a bag in one hand while the other held tightly onto him.

He smiled brightly, a light in his eyes twinkling. “We could change the world, my dove,”

“Together?”

Stiles smiled down at you. “Always.”

And with that, the front gates opened for you. Hand in hand, you two walked out, ready to change the world.

Tags:

@beaubinxie​ @writingsbychlo​ @weirdowithnobeardo​ @0castergirl0​

[that-good-trash]

I’m Not Okay- Chapter 4 Midoriya x reader/ Bakugou x reader

Izuku Midoriya x reader/ Katsuki Bakugou x reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Summary: You have struggled with mental health your whole life so why can’t you seem to get it under control. Will you be able to keep the same mask even though two of your classmates have seen under it?

Warnings: Depression, Mentions of suicide/ Attempt at suicide, Angst, Anxiety,

Word count: 4,336

Comment: Thank you all for reading this series, I have two different endings I’ll be posting after this chapter. One will be for Bakugou, One for Midoriya. I’ve enjoyed writing this and I am so happy that so many like it. 

Once again you matter and any issues you have are valid!

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You remember once, when you were little, watching a hero on TV save the day. What hero it was didn’t matter to you at the time. All you saw was this person risk their life to save someone else. You watched the emotions that passed over the citizens face, the relief and security they found after being rescued. You remember thinking that you wanted to save people. You wanted to be someone’s reason for feeling safe, a stable beacon of hope and strength. Oh, how foolish you were. Really a child with dreams too big for her bleak future.

A little girl with a quirk better suited for someone with confidence, for someone who truly believed they could save the world. You remember the excitement when it manifested. You ran around telling everyone you were gonna be a hero. There was no idol for you, you didn’t need to be like All Might. You just wanted to help people and with this quirk you were gonna do it. Other kids wanted to be hero’s for fame or power but you didn’t need any of that. You just wanted to make a difference in someone’s life. As you grew the dream was the same but the reason started to change. You wanted to make a difference in your own life, you wanted self-worth and thought being a hero could give you it. Selfish, that is what you thought you had become. How could you have gotten so lost? It wasn’t that you didn’t want to save people you just wanted someone to save you.

As you grew up each year brought on more and more emotional issues. You were convinced that you had brain damage or were dying of some brain eating bacteria. You weren’t completely wrong, you had issues, mental issues.  The first time you had gone to therapy you were six. You stopped getting along with other kids, stopped playing with toys, stopped being a child. Your family was worried, what could have happened that you lost all desire for life. A little kid not wanting to be a little kid was a strange concept. After therapy and some medication, you were back to being a child, running around and playing hero. You were ten when you watched the people around you go about their days like you didn’t exist. You found out the hard way that the world doesn’t stop when you are depressed. Still a child you had to realize that if you were gone the people around you would go on and eventually forget about you. You couldn’t understand this feeling of anxiety. You tried harder and harder to be noticed in the hopes that if you did disappear or die people wouldn’t be able to forget you. This plan back fired. Your family members, friends, and teachers started getting irritated with you. Your parents yelled at you to behave, your teachers scolded you about being loud, and your friends pushed you away not liking this version of you. Eventually you were secluded, an outcast. You were afraid of being alone so you cried. Crying became a norm for you. You did it in public until the judgement started. People didn’t feel bad anymore, instead they claimed manipulation just like Uraraka had. Crying eventually became a taboo thing you did behind closed doors. You learned how to sob silently, how to scream without being heard. That ten-year-old girl was aware of how painful life was and yet you hadn’t even felt true pain yet.

As you aged beyond ten the headaches started, the voices told you horrible things, your smile had faded out of existence, and you constantly felt like you couldn’t breathe. Your therapy was pointless because no one knew why you were like this. It was trial and error. You’d be fine one minute and then you would have scratches up your arms and hollowed out eyes. You’d look like you hadn’t slept for weeks which was true. You couldn’t sleep because your thoughts were worse at night. When you tried napping during the day you were called lazy, told that you were slacking. How could you be a hero if you slept instead of trained and studied. Your parents meant well when they pushed you toward your goal. They just didn’t know the real you. The you behind chipping paint. You felt like an abandoned building left for the earth to take back. Your words were vines burying walls of concrete. The worse things got, the more you painted portraits and placed them in front of you. People admired your work, telling you how happy you looked, how hard you were trying. You were a success story but what was success when you were miserable and a step away from falling into a pit of despair.

One day things changed and for the first time in a long time you felt normal. You felt excited and happy, you looked forward to waking up. What happened to change you? You were accepted into UA. You had tried harder than you thought possible. Tears, blood, sweat, and a lot of profanity was released from your body on your journey to be a hero. All Might telling you in a holograph that you were good enough made you feel like maybe you were. You hadn’t smiled in a school photo until the day you received your school ID. There you were with a toothy grin staring directly at the camera as if to say ‘I did it’. That should have been the moment your life took a turn for the better. You should have been on an escalator going up and you were for the first year. Even after the attack on USJ, after the training camp kidnapping, after everything with overhaul you still fought with no doubts. You smiled even when you cried with your classmates. You had participated and enjoyed their company. Things had gone so smoothly for a while.  However, mental health issues don’t magically go away. One day feeling mentally exhausted turned to two days feeling useless and massive fatigue turned to ten days of sharp chest pain, uncontrolled emotional breakdowns, and drowning in self-loathing. That most fucked up part was you were dealing with it all alone. You couldn’t tell your parents what was happening. What would they say? They would think you were pathetic, not cut out to be a hero. But were they wrong? Did someone who constantly wished negative things on themselves have the right to be here. You found that you questioned yourself over everything. You wondered why you even tried if you were a failure. Why did you eat while others went hungry stressing over classes while you suffered academically on your own terms? Why drink water when you hadn’t put in enough effort to prove you deserved it. The thing that never changed was wanting to save people. You would die if it meant saving just one person. You wanted to change lives not ruin them. You wanted people to smile not scream and cry. You wanted to do so much more for people but had no energy left to try. Your flame had burnt out and you were running on what little smoke it still produced.

Like a steam engine your legs moved you up the dark staircase. Your fingers ran along the cold railing feeling every nick or chip. You wondered if someone touched you if they would feel the broken pieces. Could you cut someone with your shattered mask, with your fractured mental state. Was there a doctor, a quirk specialist, a magician, any person that could put you back together? all the kings’ horses and all the king’s men couldn’t put poor Y/n back together again. Or at least that’s what was going through your mind as the roof door opened with a swift kick that jolted pain through your leg at the heavy metal it was made of. You were so close to the edge. No one could stop you; no one could help you. No hero was waiting and you weren’t feeling heroic enough to try and stop this. All you could think was how you were just a few steps away. You had failed everything else. You couldn’t, you wouldn’t fail this.  

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You don’t have to remove your shoes since you aren’t wearing any. The roof is much windier than you expected. You jump slightly when the roof door slams from the force of the wind closing it. Your hair is reacting to the wind, trying to blow with it, which would normally bother you but you don’t care about something so trivial. You rub your arms from the slight chill the height and wind brought. Not much longer and you won’t have to worry about the cold, or anything for that matter. You close your eye tilting your head upward toward the vast sky. When you open them, you can barely make out the stars because your vision is warped. It’s like you’re watching the night sky as you sink deep under water. The tears that slide down your cheeks make you angry. Why were you crying when you chose this? You chose to climb the stairs and there was no turning around now. The large metal door wasn’t going to be the way in which you would be leaving. Your legs grow shaky as they move you closer and closer to the fencing. You push your hand against the fencing letting your fingers slip through the diamond patterning of thick metal wiring. This wasn’t going to stop you. Not when you climbed all those stairs and broke open a heavily locked door. You activate your quirk using the blades that appeared on your finger tips to cut the obstacle away. Your quirk allowed you to create blades on your body, they could range from small swiss army knives to sharp saw-like weaponry. A cool useful quirk wasted on a useless fuckup. Once there was a large enough hole in the fence you deactivated your quirk before tossing the damaged property aside. There was a little room between the outside of the fence and the lifted concrete ledge. Just enough room for you to move along the ledge trying to find a good spot. You ran your fingers against the cold stone feeling fragments of cement crumble away. You stopped after finding the perfect spot. You could see city lights in the distance and when you turned you could see the buildings you had run from. The rows of large dormitory building. Some lights were still on and you smiled wondering what these strangers were doing. Maybe some friends were staying up talking about nothing important just enjoying each other’s company. Maybe someone got hungry or needed to finish an assignment. The thing you truly hoped was that none of these lights were coming from a room where someone laid crying wishing for death as you had done for so long.

“Please don’t cry!” Your voice is carried by the wind and disappears into the darkness. You wipe at your eyes because you are yelling to no one but maybe you were yelling to one of those lights. Maybe you wanted anyone hurting to hear you, to feel that you cared. That you believed that they could get better, as a true hypocrite would.

“It’s okay to hurt!” The words weren’t yelled at max volume because your throat was tightening from holding back sobs. You were suffocating on them as you leaned your body over the ledge gripping it for dear life. This time no words came out but instead a scream. A scream that mimicked that of an injured animal, or someone who had witnessed everything they love be destroyed. You screamed until you felt like you couldn’t breathe anymore, till your throat was raw. Your nails dug into your neck, palms pushing against your throat begging for your lung to work. Your body was breaking down and you could feel adrenaline pulsing through your veins. The word ‘breathe’ a mantra pounding in your skull. Maybe this is what you deserved for trying to preach something you didn’t practice, something you didn’t believe for yourself.

“I… I JUST WANT IT TO STOP!” There were rivers of sorrow moving like ghastly rapids down your flushed face. Snot dripped out your nose and you gave up wiping it away. You were ugly right now and that didn’t matter. No one was here to see you like this anyway. That was a good thing. You wouldn’t be able to bear the weight of judgement you’d receive from this nauseating display. “Please make it stop.”

Your grip on the stone wall tightened as you finally pulled yourself onto it. The edge crumbled slightly causing you to feel the smallest bit of apprehension. Why were you scared? Why the hell did you keep questioning yourself? The more questions that you asked yourself the more doubt arose, it was creating hesitancy. You were standing literally on the edge, there was no room for indecision. Eyes closing you think, think about everything that lead you here. The quiet disappointment of your parents, the withdrawn behavior that pushed your friends away, the pain of waking up. The bad wasn’t all you thought about, you thought about the good times. The way your parents cried and held you with worry after the USJ attack, the proud cheering for you at the sports festival even though you lost, and how they always text you to remind you that they love you. They supported you, loved you, and yet you just couldn’t use that as an excuse to feel better. You were still missing pieces of yourself, no matter how much love you received you still hated yourself which made their love feel invalid, undeserved. There were good times with your friends as well. The first day of school was the most terrifying and yet best day. You remember Bakugou getting scolded by Iida, you remember the way Midoriya’s eyes sparkled when learning people’s quirks, and you loved the anxiousness and thrill you felt holding onto that ball. You didn’t even know if you could match everyone else’s throws but that didn’t matter, what mattered was that you were even there amongst such amazing people. The time you spent with Mina was the most important, she was the first friend you made that truly loved and cared about you no matter what mood you were in. The first time you ignored her she gave you space but still checked in on you. She still told you jokes and complimented you. It hurt at first but then you realized that no matter what happened she’d be there for you. She made school easier for you. Other people soon approached you and you had become a part of different groups. Kirishima always invited you to train, Kaminari always tried to make you laugh and flirted playfully with you every time you seemed down. Every time you were lost in bad thoughts, when your body was amongst friends but your mind was in a dark place, Sero would tape Kaminari to the wall. You’d laugh, really laugh no matter how many times he did it. There were so many moments and memories you had shared with your classmates. What a shame they’d go to waste.

“I’m so sorry.” The words came out dejected. No fight left, no more energy. You were tired and ready. Oh god you were so ready for this to all stop. The slightest giggle broke the silence with as much pain the screams had. “I’m sorry.”

Your parents flashed through your mind followed by your friends. Regrets disappearing from your body as you inched closer to freedom. Midoriya would cry, he always cried. You didn’t want him to cry, sitting in that teacher’s lounge waiting for you knowing that you wouldn’t ever return. With you gone he could have friends, enjoy life without your negative energy. He could hold Uraraka close while you faded from existence. Bakugou wouldn’t show his emotions, he was really good at hiding any emotion that wasn’t anger. However, you knew he would be sad. You knew that he had blamed himself for All Might’s retirement. He would blame himself which scared you. This had nothing to do with him failing to save you. This had everything to do with failing to save yourself. You wondered if he would still make too much food out of habit and have to throw it away. Would he train harder as a distraction, potentially overwork himself? One final heartbreaking question passed your mind. Would Mina still smile, would you take her sunshine when you left?

One step and the world seemed to move in slow motion then all at once. The sky was beautiful as you turned to fall backwards. You didn’t want to see the ground. Just the gorgeous vastness of space. You fell with grace. Like an angel falling from heaven, like a shooting star, like someone who had nothing left to live for. Darkness surrounded you as your conscience was lost, as you plummeted toward the ground.

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Bakugou and Midoriya collided as they rushed into the broken school doorway. The panic in each other’s eyes evident as they shared a look. Usually they were rivals but, in this moment, they wanted the same thing and it didn’t matter who got there first, what mattered was that they got there. Got to you. Finally sharing the same goal, they moved as a unit toward the staircase. How long did it take you to climb these stairs? Were your legs as heavy as your heart? Midoriya wanted to find you sitting on the stairs crying. Bakugou wanted to open the door and find you on the other side about to head back down because you couldn’t do it. As they ran, they both wished they could have done more but there was only so much they could have done. Bakugou wanted to go back in time and fought the people and situations that made you feel this way. Midoriya would have held your hand, dried you tears, reminded you every moment that you mattered. They will do these things if they stop you, after they stop you. Fear drove them up the stairs faster. The temperature getting hotter and hotter as Bakugou activated his quirk to move faster. The dark walls of the stairwell illuminate as Midoriya uses one for all to boost his legs further, skipping a copious number of stairs at a time. Passing a window, they hear you, the words you yelled to those distant lights, ‘please don’t cry’ ’it’s okay to hurt’ it was as if you were giving the validation you wish you had. The words were heartbreaking enough but the added tone intensified them, the broken scream that followed just about destroyed the boys. By the time they reached the halfway point you had begged for this to stop. Your words were like knives digging into their hearts, chests, and minds. How could you have felt this much pain and no one ever notice? What kind of heroes were they if they couldn’t save you? Though the most important thing for heroes to remember is that they can’t save everyone. Right now, they didn’t care if they couldn’t save anyone else, they just wanted to be able to save you.

“Don’t you fucking do it!” Bakugou’s voice matched the time he had broken down in front of Midoriya. Tears welled up in Midoriya’s eyes and his voice followed his childhood friends. “Y/N! WE’RE COMING FOR YOU!”

Bakugou turned and looked toward the doorway leading into the school halls. He didn’t know what possessed him to rush through the doors rather than continue up the stairs, but he was grateful. He ran at the window as he heard Midoriya scream from the floor above. Bakugou rushed through the glass and he wasn’t the only one. Midoriya had kicked through the window and launched himself outside to try and catch you. Bakugou used his quirk to propel himself downward after you. Him and Midoriya moving at the same speed. Fire blasting behind Bakugou while Midoriya kept running along the side of the building. You were passing the floors faster and faster. Bakugou screamed using the full force of his quirk. His hand reached out and grabbed your ankle yanking backward to pull the top half of you closer. His hand gripped the back of your head pulling you into himself. He could see the ground getting closer and couldn’t use his quirk without letting go of you. He would have taken the damage but didn’t. He never hit the ground as Midoriya kicked off the building grabbing the two of you before pushing against the air. He broke through the fourth story window hitting the floor and tumbling through the glass. He had let go of Bakugou who was still holding you, his hand cradling your head against his chest as he took the force of hitting the floor and glass pushing through his sleep tank top. Both boys were breathing heavy their chest pounding harder than when they were running. Midoriya got up rushing to your side. Bakugou moved you away from his chest. Your chest rose and fell in a very slow manner. It was like you were sleeping. They were scared that when you woke up, you’d try again, you’d fight them for saving you. Or maybe you would be okay. Maybe you just needed to be saved to know that it was possible. Bakugou wouldn’t let go of you and Midoriya wouldn’t leave your side. His fingers stroking your hair. The two boys shared a quiet promise to not tell anyone about their sorry states. Bakugou was crying, his eyes bloodshot. Midoriya didn’t look any better, he had to keep wiping his nose and eyes on his hoodie sleeve. There was the distant sound of sirens and the dark room flashed with red and blue lighting from below. Bakugou stood up holding you in his arms. Midoriya took off his hoodie shaking the debris off it before laying over you. Bakugou and him stare at you before looking at each other. They could tell how much the other care for you. Bakugou scoffed before walking ahead. Midoriya smiled sadly walking beside him. His legs were throbbing and he could see the singe marks on Bakugou’s knuckles. They walked down the stairs in silence, no words being shared. Nothing could be said right now, you were safe for now and they just wanted you to be okay. Police, EMT’s, and a fire truck were parked outside. Your classmates stood off to the side behind tape, every one of them. Mr. Aizawa turned with All Might to look at the boys than down at you in Bakugou’s arms. The medical staff rushed forward but before they could try and take you Bakugou pulled the hand supporting your head free. It sparked and his snarl threatened them. Midoriya moved his hand to replace Bakugou’s against your head. The officers told Bakugou to back down and give you over. All Might and Mr. Aizawa approached.

“Young Bakugou, Young Midoriya. You got to her on time. We are so grateful; you both are heroes but now you have to hand her over so they can take her to the hospital.” Bakugou didn’t want to let you go and before he could Midoriya spoke up. “We made it on time to catch her. We didn’t make it on time to stop her. She jumped; we were just able to catch her.”

There was this tension as the realization seeped into the two adults’ minds. You had jumped and that changed things even more. The two boys knew you needed help, a lot more help and they were determined to get it for you. They knew that you couldn’t be magically cured and that this would take time but they had time and were willing to be there through it all. The two boys nodded at each other before handing you over to the EMT waiting. They watched them hook you onto a gurney lifting you into the ambulance and then you were gone. As you were wheeled to the vehicle your classmates behind the tape watched. They couldn’t believe that one of them had been hurting enough to do this. The girls were quiet do to them being the last ones to witness your breakdown. Uraraka was crying and rubbing her hands against her eyes. Sobs broke from her as she realized that she was the one who pushed you to do this. Mina screamed your name willing you to sit up and smile at her but you remained unconscious on the bed. She watched you get taking away and she cried out your name while the students around her cried too. They never wanted this and wished they had been there for you. The thing is though, you would never want them to blame themselves.

“Come on you all get back to the dorms.”  Mr. Aizawa ushered his students away leaving Midoriya and Bakugou to tell the police what had happened. Bakugou was aggressive toward the officer when he seemed to not care about your mental health. They made it seem like you were crazy. Even Midoriya had to argue for your sake. They both left with All Might. They wanted to go to the hospital but only family was allowed to see you. All Might promised the boys that he would take them to see you as soon as you were allowed to have visitors. There was also a chance you wouldn’t want people to see you, or that you’d be considered a threat to others and yourself and be locked up.

While everyone dealt with this heart ache and remorse you rested peacefully for once. Not even aware that you hadn’t succeeded.  

[amarauder]

Criminal Girl Relates to Garfield - Percy Jackson x Reader

                                005. criminal girl relates to garfield 

PAIRING; High School AU!  Percy Jackson x Reader

REQUEST; Not Applicable

GODLY PARENT; Not Applicable

DATE; June 12th, 2020

WORD COUNT; 8053

WARNING; Bruh so freaking much. friends and families being dicks, panic attacks, crying and pubic humiliation, you're gonna read this and just keep cringing because of reader's dumb ass.

A/N; I think I like High School and Soulmate AUs too much. This isn't a soulmate AU. It was going to originally be but it just didn't match with the plot so I didn't. Still this is my first one and I had so much fun writing it. I think I just related to this reader more than normal. I think this is my favorite one shot to be honest. I'm so happy, I feel like I've fallen in love with writing again. The last few one shots I've just had the best time writing them and it's been difficult to stop writing.

TRAILER; Reader is Percy Jackson's soulmate, potentially a criminal and more than kind of cute.

REQUESTED BY; Not Applicable

-

Y/N was more than ready for this week to be over. It had started out horribly and only got worse as the days ran their course.

On Monday her Aunt's insane dog, that she had been forced to dog sit, had torn up her favorite shirt. On Tuesday she had forgotten her entire binder at home and received zeros on all of her assignments, and then one of her exams for being blamed for talking when it had really been the kid behind her. On Wednesday, Y/N was supposed to be presenting one of the most important projects of the entire semester in her first period only for her car refusing to start. Of course, when her Dad came home it ran perfectly. Thursday she had found out her position as President of the Economics Club had been handed over to some kid she didn't even know, despite how long she had been working for it. Friday, she had found out her best friend since kindergarten had lied to her face and was hanging out with a girl she loathed.

Her best friend ditching her had hurt her the most. It left an ugly slimy feeling in her chest that felt like some kid attempting to learn CPR for the first time, except she was the mannequin every time she thought of them hanging out together. Despite the chest compression, her self-depreciating thoughts never seemed to leave her. It was like she was trying to torture herself which didn't hurt any less.

To say the least, Y/N was completely drained. Blinking took way too much effort, and yawns seemed to be effortless. The kind of tired that took over after crying too much, so stress relieving that the tightness in her chest released, leaving her slap happy.

After grabbing two boxes of mac and cheese and a huge jug of orange juice, Y/N was on her way to her car. The bagger asked her if she needed any help carrying everything to her car.

She stared blankly at him for a few seconds before looking at her three items. He smiled sheepishly and Y/N felt fortunate to have been blessed with more brains than him.

It wasn't until she reached her car and caught sight of her reflection that she wondered if he had asked because she looked so miserable.

His so called thoughtfulness really didn't make her feel any better. In fact she felt worse. It was like when her Mother's wine group would come over and compare stories of who had been more disrespected. From grocers deciding they were age appropriate to buy wine without asking for an ID to being called Ma'am instead of Miss, Y/N had heard it all. Somehow it all had to do with old age and the grocery store. The wonders of Motherhood in the suburbs.

Placing her groceries on top of her car, she tried to unlatch the trunk. It wouldn't budge.

Hmm, Y/N was pretty sure she had left her it unlocked. Whatever. She wouldn't put it past herself if she had forgotten to lock it.

But when she tried to unlock it, nothing happened. Her car didn't beep or flash it's stupid lights, or anything. The battery in her key had been flickering on and off all week, it was the reason her car wouldn't start on Wednesday morning. But her Dad had said it had at least a few months of life left, not three days.

Her stomach dropped and she felt unshed tears build up in her eyes. Not now, not today. She had enough this week.

Her thumb hovered over the unlock button once more. Y/N almost didn't want to press it, because that would mean finding out her fate and she just wasn't that kind of girl.

She did it anyway. And the old piece of junk sat there like it was ready to retire to the car graveyard. Y/N wasn't ready for her freedom to retire so quickly.

Feeling her tears build up again, more rapidly this time, she dug the palm of her hand into her eyes and leaned against the car. Her throat tightened. She promised herself she wouldn't cry anymore today. She promised...

"You're okay, you're okay, you're okay," she whispered to herself, her voice to low to crack. Face screwed shut and her toes curled to will the tightness in her throat away.

The tears eventually made it through which only made her want to cry harder. She was so embarassed. Thoughts ran wild, making her panic harder to control.

How was she going to get home?

How was she going to pay for her car to be fixed?

She really didn't want to go back to walking.

Wouldn't her parents be mad?

What if this was one of those stupid kidnapping schemes that she had seen during a school assembly?

Don't be stupid. Calm down. Focus.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw a lady with her dog, eye Y/N warily. A man sitting in his car with his feet propped up on the dashboard and a cigarette hanging between his finger laughed at her despair then ended up in a coughing fit. A woman ushered her child away, who was pointing at her, and gave Y/N a dirty look.

Y/N remained like that until her Mother's advice that she never took to heart rang through her, "Pick yourself up. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Life isn't that hard."

She was right and Y/N wiped her tears away hurriedly.

As the knots in her stomach washed away, a new one settled it self in her chest. She was pissed. Furious at life for making her feel like shit, betrayed by her best friend, grades flustering down to nothing, and a position she worked harder than anything in the world for was snatched away before she could even think of savoring it.

It was just shit and completely unfair.

Wiping her tears, Y/N turned towards the driver's handle and pulled on it so hard, that her feet started to slip and she fell on her but.

She could have screamed, but instead she started to curse loudly and kick her car still laying down. She just about to kick the car for the sixth time when someone said behind her, "Uhh, hey, it would be really cool if you could stop trying to destroy my car? I don't know what he did to you, but at this point I think you're in danger of giving him PTSD."

Turning around, she noticed a blurry figure. Tears were still in her eyes making it hard for her to make out who it was but she could tell closing her eyes that he felt awkward. Hell, her guardian angel, no devil at this point, probably felt awkward.

When she blinked her tears away she saw him look suprised, and stumble back a few steps as if her presence shocked him. Which was stupid because unless there was some other person trying to break into the car, she didn't know why he was acting like she had come out of nowhere.

"This is my car, dude."

The teen scratched his neck, then pressed his car keys and suddenly the piece of junk came to life. She blinked hard, trying to comprehend what had just happened in front of her.

A flash of heat surged up her body that couldn't have came up from the exhaust pipe right next to her. She couldn't have been more aggravated and embarrassed. The guy seemed to realize that, because he shifted his weight to his side as he glanced at her. He was right, she was an idiot.

Quickly mumbling an apology, she ran off into the parking lot. Her car had to be around here somewhere and Y/N had never been more than ever determined to find it, or maybe just determined to get away from this situation as soon as possible.

She found it in the exact same spot, just a few rows away. Her brain kept replaying and replaying her embarrassing moment over and over again, leaving her to cringe and try to shoo it away.

If there was a list for the most embarrassing things Y/N had ever done, this would be on the top of the list. She could imagine herself years later, watching her husband struggling to change their kid's diaper as she laughed and talked about this. But right now all Y/N wanted to do was forget that she even existed.

It almost funny the amount of relief she felt just to have her car unlock. Her car, her piece of junk did it's little half-hearted beep, but it sounded rejuvenated as if it knew what she had gone through just for it.

She started the engine, and then let her forehead rest against the wheel in relief. At least that went well.

She was in the middle of her breather when a knock on her window startled her. Y/N took a few more seconds to herself before looking up and seeing the boy from before looking more awkward than when she he was before.

She rolled down the window, and right when he opened his mouth to speak the engine died.

"No," she whispered to herself, her stomach sinking, "No, no, no."

"Um, here's your groceries?" the boy said with a smile, but Y/N only opened the engine after getting out of her car. He stood there for a second before setting them inside the drivers seat and following her. He leaned over the hood and started to hack violently. The engine was fuming and Y/N wanted to cry for what seemed the millionth time that day. "Did you beat this one up too?"

She gave him a look but he only smiled sheepishly, "Sorry, it just slips out sometimes."

"It's okay... You're a boy."

The boy smiled. Did she just notice now? "Nice observation."

"Do you know anything about cars?"

"I know they aren't supposed to smell like that."

Pursing her lips, she rolled her eyes, "Thanks, so helpful."

"I try."

Letting out a laugh of disbelief, she leaned against the car and groaned. What was she going to do know? Even though breaking into the guys car was one of extremely embarrassing, she had been filled with a little bit of hope. The shitty day would end and she could go home. But now... There was no decent solution.

"Umm, would you want a ride in my car?" Y/N raised an eyebrow and he tried to hurriedly explain, "It's just I saw the sticker on your back window and we go to the same school. My Mom would kill me if I just left you here, so..."

-

The car ride home was so awkwardly silent, Y/N had even asked for his name.

"Percy Jackson," he said and flashed her a smile that she didn't return. She was too tired, and this guy was too happy. He probably shit out sunshine rays and Y/N just... was not about that life. Plus, his name sounded irkingly familiar, as if he had been in one of her previous classes.

"Nice to meet you," she said after a while, her imaginary Mother shaking her fist at the girl during that silent moment, "I'm Y/N L/N."

"Y/N," he repeated, and she almost looked for that feeling that all her friends talked about. The one where their stomachs churned pleasantly and it seemed that they don't even remember what happened before and after seeing him. All the memories from that day were separate. The life they knew before and after her friends met the one. But there was nothing, no shocking realization or fireworks. She could have just met Zeus himself and Y/N wouldn't be able to tell the difference. "Nice name."

"Thanks," she whispered quietly and played with the hem of her shoe. She had originally placed it on the dashboard but Percy sucked in a harsh breath and then the foot was back balancing on her thigh.

"Ya," and then it was awkward silence again.

Inside her mind, Y/N was cringing. This boy was nice, way too nice, and probably the most good looking kid she had ever seen. It was a wonder how she had never noticed him, or at the very least seen him around her school. Now, she had murdered his car, almost broke into it, screamed at him about her engine, and he decides to drive her home because well, she didn't know. It shouldn't matter because she was just repaying him by being awkward.

"Umm, why are you being so nice to me?"

What? God, why was she such a nerd? And an introvert. She needed to go out more.

"Uh," he said and glanced at her as she pointed to the left and he put his blinker on, "I don't know what you mean."

"I beat up your car, probably would have made the stupid alarm go off if you hadn't stopped me and then you follow me to give me my groceries that I had forgotten. My car doesn't start and you offer me a ride home even though you don't know my name." Y/N finished with a huff. Surprisingly, she felt better as if she had just finished crying and got it all off her chest.

"So?"

"So? It's not very high-school boy of you."

Percy laughed, "Well, I'll try harder to be more high school boy if you want."

"No, I like whatever you've got going on here," She said and waved her hand at him.

"Good. I don't feel like pulling over and dropping you off at a random street. Besides, Mom would be pissed at me. When I tell her what happened today, because I'm sorry but I have too. She's going to wonder what took me so long. But, umm," he paused for a second to collect his thoughts, "When I tell her what happened, she's gonna ask if I brought you home or not, and this way I won't have to lie."

He flashed another smile at her and she felt a slight tingle on her face that her friends talked about. But then again, maybe it was her nose going numb from the air conditioning. It was like this boy secretly lived in Alaska. "I'm a shit liar, by the way."

"Couldn't have guessed."

"What gave me away?"

Y/N stared at him for a second before laughing, "You said it."

He had the audacity to look embarrassed, yet please at the same time. "Well, you looked like you needed some cheering up."

Her laugh died from her eyes as the words sunk in. It was not the first time Percy put his foot in his mouth, sometimes he wished he could actually think before he would speak. He would try, but it's not socially acceptable at his age for long periods of silence in between conversations to take place so he can run over his words.

She huffed and crossed her arms, and it felt like Percy's insides were crushed between the space of her chest and twisted limbs. His hands tightened on the steering wheel. He gave her a gentle little thing that somewhat resembled the corner of his lips titling up.

Percy didn't know her at all, but she seemed like the girl that was disappointed with the world. Y/N was too pretty to be disappointed. Percy's Mom had always told him that the prettiest people in the world were dreamers, and the world never held up to their expectations.

Percy didn't really like that for Y/N.

She glanced at him from the corner of her eyes, her face never wavering from the road ahead.

"Umm, what's your favorite animal?"

He took Y/N so off guard that she answered, "A cat."

"Why a cat?"

Y/N hesitated, who questions their favorite animal? "Umm, because I relate to them, I think."

"Why because you like lasagna and are scared of accordions?"

"I'm sorry, what?" He had her full attention now. She wasn't even trying to pretend to be mad at him. Her entire body, despite the restrictions of the seatbelt, was turned towards him.

"Have you never heard of Garfield?"

"Of course, I have." Y/N answered, "Who hasn't? But I thought Garfield was scared of scales and diets."

"He is. But he's also scared of accordions. I have to impress you with my extensive Garfield knowledge somehow right?" Y/N snickered, her fingers massaging her forehead. This boy was something else, she liked it.

"Well, do you relate to Garfield?" he asked a minute later.

Y/N laughed so hard that the back of her head hit the seat and she snorted, which only set her into another laughing fit. "I'm sorry," she said still giggling a little bit, "It's just who relates to Garfield?"

"A girl who tries to break into cars, I guess."

Y/N didn't think Percy had it in him to be so sarcastic. After spending a little under fifteen minutes with him, she had judged him as the boy who apologized despite doing nothing wrong and had fallen in love with his best friend but would never tell them. The boy who lived next door type.

He was sweet, and funny, and so incorrigibly cute that Y/N was shocked that she had been able to have a decent conversation with him.

So, she did what she did best with cute boys: pretend she wasn't attracted to them.

She shoved his arm even though he was driving, ignored him after with a fake pout, and even refused to say goodbye to him as she got out of the car. He had laughed at all of her antics and kept repeating his goodbyes over and over, getting louder and louder with each one.

After the door was shut, she snuck over to the window where the curtains were drawn and peeked through. He was still there, staring at the door. She watched him until he drove off.

A surreal giggle peeked through her, her smile seeming unable to wipe off. Her body thrummed with energy. For the first time in a while, her chest felt light and airy, as if drugged with hope.

-

The magical energy in the form of Percy Jackson had worn off by the time school started that Monday. She had gotten to school as late as possible that day, her stomach twisting and turning itself. The last thing Y/N wanted to do was see her best friend. Y/N had ignored her the entire weekend, all her calls and texts had gone ignored. Her own actions had almost been surprising to her, she had a knack for forgiving others who didn't deserve her mercy. Y/N supposed she had finally had enough.

Fortunately, she had gotten through the entire first half of the day without seeing her by ignoring her texts and calls, dodging her attempts at meeting Y/N at her own locker, and even purposely coming into Y/N's class with the excuse of office aid.

It was now lunchtime and Y/N was lucky enough to have her first meeting of the Environmental Club scheduled today. Her best friend would never even think of stepping in here, Y/N had too many good friends who would love to give her a good shove.

Even though she was thankful to have somewhere to hide from her friend, Y/N was anxious to enter the classroom. Her nerves felt fuzzy from toes to her hairline, which only made her more nervous. Y/N had a habit of stumbling over her words when she was nervous, and she did not need that today.

The meeting room was just an empty classroom with her biology teacher from freshman year eating a sandwich in the corner of the classroom. Y/N was almost 100% sure he was a biker version of Santa Claus. Sure, he was a lot less generous with his grades, but he looked exactly like the Santas at the mall just with tattoos and a tommy bahama shirt.

The turnout varied. There were the usual, Y/N, Triton the President of the club, this random freshman named Tyson, Grover and his girlfriend. That was about it. Sometimes it was just them. Other times, usually when there was pizza, a lot more people showed up.

Today was one of those days. A group of giggling freshman girls eyed Triton appreciatively, while a girl named Ella and Tyson went over notes in the corner. Grover smiled and waved from the pizza stand and Y/N grimaced but waved back.

Gods, this was going to be at the top of her list of embarrassing moments, right next to having a mental breakdown with Percy's car.

Triton started off the meeting with his usual greetings of putting Y/N in charge. He grinned down at her menacingly once he announced she would be taking over the rest of the meeting. She had never wanted to flip off someone so much that Y/N pressed her hand against her thigh and flipped him off secretly.

Triton moved off the stand and sat on his phone by Tyson and the freshman girls, they giggled and moved closer to him.

She rolled her eyes and smiled at everyone from the platform despite her trembling fingers and her tongue feeling as if it weighed tons.

Y/N tried to focus on the light from the windows lighting up dust like tiny stars and the way the crank from the air conditioning reminded her of boring days in this classroom where there wasn't the threatening future looming over her.

Triton expected her to announce her own failure. She wanted to cry.

Triton was the biggest asshole she had ever met. He had been held back so many times that no one truly knew how old he was, and nobody dared to ask. The one thing he somewhat cared about was this club. He had been President for the past how many years he had been here despite that he did nothing.

As it was her Senior year and Y/N had never worked so hard to keep a club going, she decided to run for President. It turned out that Triton was finally graduating but it never occurred to him that he would have to give up his position. Y/N had never seen him so mad in her life, and he decided to punish her for his graduation.

She took a breath and smiled at everyone. She could do this. "Hey guys. So thank you for coming today. Pizza will be served at the end of the meeting, as per usual." She said and leaned against the podium. Her voice was shaking but Y/N had to pretend she didn't realize for her own sanity. Looking more casual would hopefully calm her down. Maybe looking around the crowd would help. "Umm, today we are revealing next year's President which is really exciting-" As people started to clap, she choked on air, and suddenly she was stuck in a coughing fit struggling to catch a breath. Percy had been sitting in the back. They had made eye contact and then she had forgotten how to breathe.

Hands were on her back, and she was guided outside the classroom then sat down by the lockers. The feet left and she coughed some more but it died down. The tickle in her throat felt like someone was itching her throat with a feather. Y/N had to clear her throat multiple times to try to get it to go away but nothing worked. Her lungs burned as she filled them with air. She felt her hands shaking violently again and she leaned her head against the lockers.

She hadn't even gotten to the announcement part.

A water bottle was handed to her but she didn't move to open it. Pretty, tan hands did it instead, she watched them languidly.

"I think I have a knack for creating your breakdowns," Percy said with a smile. She looked up at him with her hand still against the locker. Her lips felt too heavy to give him a real smile, so she settled for a shuddering breath and closed her eyes. "I don't know about you, but sleeping in the hallways isn't really ideal."

Y/N snorted and her chest fluttered. She sat up then and took the water. Her throat was so parched it burned as the water went down.

"Ya, I'm not one for naps on floors that haven't been cleaned since the school opened either. Just when I start yacking so hard, you have to bring me outside."

Percy laughed and it was so contagious that she caught herself giggling with him.

"How's Garfield?"

"Garfield?" Y/N questioned.

"Ya, you know," Percy said and stuffed his hands into his hoodie. She wondered how often he did that. "Garfield, your car."

"What?" Y/N said laughing as she looked at him. He was already looking at him and Y/N hurriedly turned towards the lockers in front of her again. Yay, now she made things even more awkward. But Y/N couldn't help it, he really liked eye contact and Y/N didn't. End of story. "I've never named my car anything."

"I had a feeling. You don't seem the type, so I named him for you. Garfield in honor of your favorite animal."

Y/N hit him with the water bottle. If any other person had done this, then they probably would have remembered to put the cap on. It was too bad she was a world class idiot. However, to her horror, Y/N had only realized that would happen once it did.

"Shit, I'm so sorry." Y/N scrambled around for anything to dry the water with but all she found was a disgustingly dirty straw wrapper and a dried piece of gum. Y/N didn't know him that well, but she figured he wouldn't want to use that. She settled for using her own shirt instead.

Percy was laughing the entire time, and was pushing away her hands. It was like Percy was made just to embarrass her, as if baby bunnies were going to die everyday if she didn't embarrass herself every time he was around. "Y/N, Y/N," he repeated, grabbing her hands and placing them in his lap, "It's fine." She wouldn't look up at him and continued to look at their hands. He was so close to her that her focus had gone out the window. Her hands were abuzz and Y/N felt another coughing fit coming along.

It was just like her friends had explained. Oh god, it was exactly the same. Her tirade of a crush smashing Y/N with the weight of it.

"Y/N, I don't care honestly," her heart pounded in her throat and Y/N started to laugh nervously. She was screwed. "If anything it will just piss off Octavian which makes this even better." Percy said, mistaking her panic for spilling water on him. Gods, he probably thought she was a freak.

Fortunately, Grover came into the room. She had never been more thankful for him, Y/N had a feeling that if Percy spend anymore time this close to her she was going to either faint or have another coughing fit, maybe even both. "Come on, Percy. Triton just announced that you were President, he wants a little speech."

"Speech?"

Grover shrugged, "That's what he said. Although, I have a feeling that you could tell him that the world was dying and he would be crying tears of happiness."

He patted Y/N's head, and she tried to engrain this feeling into her brain. "You'll be fine right."

She nodded, and his hands left her. It was like a light switch had turned on and suddenly her brain started working again.

Y/N grabbed Percy's wrist before he left, "You're the President."

Percy nodded and Y/N muttered a little, "Oh," under her breath. She didn't know quite how to feel anymore. How had she not noticed before? It must have been why his name sounded so familiar, but she couldn't put a finger on where she had remembered him from.

Percy went to kneel next to her again, but Grover cleared his throat. He looked torn, and looked at Y/N then Grover and back again before leaving with a hand on her shoulder. She didn't shy away but wouldn't look at him either.

Just as they crossed the threshold Y/N heard Grover tell Percy that Y/N was supposed to be President. Her lip quivered, but she pressed them together. She could practically feel Percy's glance at her. She wanted to hit Grover in the back of the head and also wanted to run away. If she wasn't so emotionally drained she probably would have.

-

Y/N met her fate at the end of the third period. Her next class was a free period, fortunately. It gave her just enough time to wait in line for the food line.

"Hey, criminal girl," someone whispered into her ear. She just about jumped four feet.

She turned around to see Percy. Her chest hurt a little, and she wasn't sure it's from the scare or Percy giving her all of his attention. Y/N settled for both.

"Umm, hey," she said and eyed the two boys behind him. The pair looked almost identical, except for their different sized scars on their face, and the one on the left was taller. They were giggling like elementary school children and making suggestive faces at her. "What are you doing here?"

"Hoping to cut in line with you," Percy says, a plea in his voice.

Y/N meant in a general, in a what are you doing here talking to me? kind of way. If Y/N were Percy, she would have stayed as far away from his as possible. But then again, she knew that wasn't true. Percy could have told her he was half god and the son of the god of fish poop and Y/N would have swooned.

"What are you doing here?"

She gave him a look when he started to snicker, then marched past him and threw out her hand with a smile, "Y/N L/N."

Both boys looked shocked that she had started to talk to them and Y/N couldn't lie. She was just as surprised by her actions. Fortunately, they didn't seem to mind and kickstarted into action. The taller one of the left with a faded scar running down the side of his face said, "Luke Castellan. Nice to meet the girl Perseus hasn't stopped talking about for the last few days."

"Your name is Perseus?" Y/N asked a shit eating grin creeping up her face. Percy looked like he just found out Gaea was coming after him. She turned back to the Luke kid who had turned red from trying not to laugh, "I want to personally thank you for that information. It's priceless."

Percy grumbled.

"Hey Y/N," the other one said. She was surprised he knew who she was. Jason was less boisterous than the other two, but still just as mischievous. He had a a type of quiet confidence and grace to him that made her want to hang onto every word she gave him. Y/N also spent a day with him each month, trying to figure out the balance of money she could spend on the club. "So, you're the girl who tried to steal the piece of junk."

"Hey!" Percy exclaimed, "Leave Blackjack out of this!"

"Blackjack?" Y/N questioned.

"My car," Percy said softly to her then scratched his neck.

She laughed quietly, then studied the three boys. "Are you two related?" Y/N asked and pointed to Jason and Luke.

"Nah, I'm dating Jason's sister but Percy and Lightning Skull over here are cousins."

Y/N nodded, processing this information. How had she not seen Percy around? Jason Grace was the Senior Class President, she had to attend monthly meetings to go over the Environmental Club treasury.

A voice cut through their conversation, making Y/N look over Luke's shoulder to see who it was. Piper McClean, the TV anchor and Speech and Debate finalist was walking over with a smile. Her grin was directed at Jason, but just being in the crossfire felt like a gift.

It seemed Jason felt that way too because he suddenly straightened up and turned red in under 2.5 seconds. He walked away with a halfhearted gesture that could have passed as a wave goodbye.

Luke snickered then pointed towards the potential couple with his thumb, "I'm gonna go find Thals while the idiot is love sick."

The line had moved up while Y/N had been distracted, and she flashed a smile at her fellow seniors then ran up to join Percy. He was already forking out some money to pay for whatever food he wanted.

"They seem nice."

"Hmm," Percy said, not looking up from his wallet, "Oh, ya. I've known Jason since Summer and Luke for even longer."

"I thought you and Jason were cousins."

"We are," Percy said and smiled triumphantly when he found a ten dollar bill. She couldn't help but bask in her contentment. Her breaths were coming in deeper and easier. She felt like she had fallen into Sally from Spongebob's little bubble house, there were no threats to take away this short-lived happiness at the moment. "My Dad and my uncle don't get along. Besides, my Dad left when I was young. It wasn't until Jason came over the Summer after meeting at Summer camp and my Mom hugged him for longer than normal that she told us."

Y/N didn't know what to say. She was fortunate enough to have all her family members with her, it wasn't perfect and her parents seemed to really adore fighting. But something is better than nothing. "Shit," she paused, "I know we don't know each other too well, but I'm sorry, Percy."

Percy shrugged with a smile. His hands were buried deep into his hoodie. He looked like the main protagonist in some cheesy coming of age movie, where a cheerleader decides to scoop up the hot but oddball kid in her Shakespeare class. "I mean, you can't really miss something you never had."

Y/N tilted her head from side to side and considered his words, "I never thought of it that way."

"That's why I am known as a secret genius in these halls."

Y/N laughed, "Known? My ass." She was impressed with herself. Y/N hadn't embarrassed herself yet, and she even had introduced herself to one if his friends.

"No one's gonna know the new kid."

Now, that took Y/N by surprise, "You're new? That makes so much more sense." She leaned her head against her hand which was resting on the sill of the window as they finally reached the front of the line.

It was why she had never noticed him before, why Jason and Luke were hanging out together, why Percy knew Jason. It just all seemed to connect under seconds.

"Hey Rachel!" Y/N grinned, perking up from seeing her old friend. Rachel had been on her sports team freshman year. Y/N spent most of her time on the bench, still did, but Rachel had been there along with her so it was okay. She was a good friend and an even funnier person. Rachel had no licensee, which left Y/N's sophomore season screaming the entire way to their away games.

"Hi," she smiled and Y/N wanted to laugh. Rachel's smile was incredibly contagious, something about it being too mischievous to be anything good. "What can I get for you two?"

They ordered and Rachel nor Percy wouldn't let her pay. "It will make your payment easier for breaking into my car. Then you can drive me home and buy me lunch. Maybe even a little beating up the car sesh."

Y/N looked at Rachel wide eyed. Her heart picked up at the thought of spending time with him outside of school. "You never said anything about a repayal." She objected, and tried to swipe food from him.

He pivoted and held everything over his head, out of her reach. She crossed her arms and glared at him. His green eyes twinkled, and she marveled at how shockingly handsome he was. It truly wasn't fair. If she had his beauty, she would have used it to her advantage but then again, he probably does.

"Well, you kind of beat up my car, criminal girl. I was hoping for at least a thank you."

Y/N rolled her eyes. He had this way of backing her into her own corners. He turned his back and continued his purchase, shooting a victorious look over his shoulder as the receipt printed out.

Y/N stood alone by the cashier for a whiplashed moment. Jesus Christ. What the fuck was going on? She felt like she was meeting Percy over again. He acted so differently than when he was in the car.

It was like she'd been sucked into a tornado, tossed around, and then spit out alone in the front of the lunch line.

He threw away the cover at the trashcan and Y/N reluctantly walked up next to him, the condiments were right next to the trash can. He grinned at her and she struggled not to return it. "We're going to spend a lot more time together, so you're going to have to turn that frown upside down."

Y/N snickered and elbowed him. He grinned and leaned against the trash can. She eyed him and wrinkled her nose. So disgusting.

He quickly got off it, as if he hadn't realized what he was going. Percy brushed off the sleeve of his hoodie then smelled it. It only made Y/N laugh harder and shake her head. "What do you mean spend more time together?"

"Well, one you owe me," he said and shot her a look. The smirk on her face made her wary. "And the Environmental Club rulebook states that co-presidents have to spend loads of time together."

He was walking backwards and Y/N couldn't lie she was impressed until he stumbled over a crack in the sidewalk. "Well, it's a good thing I'm not co-President then."

"What if I told you, you were." Percy said, studying her. Her head shot up so fast, her vision blurred. It was as if an airplane from the sky had just dropped a bunch of wooden skewers right on her. They didn't hurt her, she was more shocked than anything. "Grover told me what happened and I just thought it was entirely unfair what Triton did to you. And you're fun to be around so during my speech I said that you were co-president but couldn't come in cause you were still coughing. Everyone seemed to believe it, so."

Y/N was quiet. She had never been so touched in her life. Being everyone's second choice sucked, but Percy had just admitted he thought she was fun. For a lot of people it wouldn't seem like such a big deal but Y/N felt all warm and fuzzy inside.

"I mean, you don't have to do it, if you don't want to. I can always tell everyone it had been a mistake. You're just a cool person and stuff. I would have a better time being president if you were doing it with me."

"I'd love to, Percy."

"Really?" Percy looked up from where he was tracing the sidewalk with his shoe. She had never seen him so happy yet shy. Y/N bit her cheek to keep herself from smiling too big. She felt tingly all over, it was stupid but she liked it. It wasn't electricity like how her friends had said they felt with their boyfriends, Y/N had never been electrocuted so she didn't know how it felt. But somehow she knew that Percy was more than just tiny shocks.

-

They were assigned their first project together a week later. Co-Presidency was a lot more fun than she had thought. Percy had used the excuse of inviting Y/N over to his table for lunch to 'discuss tactics'. Y/N knew that wasn't what he meant but she didn't mention anything.

Her best friend had asked to speak to her when she was studying with Percy. It was more like Percy whining about how senior year was supposed to be easy and how his life was so hard, while Y/N asked him questions from her stack of flashcards.

But the second Percy saw the panic on her face, he had asked her politely if she could talk to Y/N later because he had a test next period and really needed the help.

Y/N had thought he was bad at lying.

Once she left, Percy had put an arm around her and brought Y/N closer to him. He whispered into her ear, "I got you, criminal girl."

She smiled at her lap, and risked a glance at him. He was staring at her as if she was some question on a test he couldn't figure out. He held her intimacy of being understood in his hands.

She leaned into him.

-

At the end of the day, Percy met Y/N by her car. Their cars were amongst the last few left, except for some of the athletic representation and staff. Her shoes squeak against the pavement, but he doesn't even flinch; he just smiles at her.

She knocks his hat down as a makeshift greeting and a way to distract him so she doesn't see her double-checking it is in fact her car. Y/N already made a fool of herself before, she didn't want to do it again.

Unfortunately, he notices because he snickers behind her and jabs her sides. Her heart leaps into her throat then drops down to her feet, like some rollercoaster ride. She has to lean against the car to calm her racing breath. He laughs even harder at that and grabs her keys from her purse before getting in the passenger seat.

Once Y/N feels confident enough that she won't have a stroke around him, she gets in the car. Percy already has plugged his phone into apple car play and is playing some dumb song from his playlist. She faintly recognizes it as some song from the Little Mermaid.

"I don't think I needed the keys to get in here, did I?"

Y/N laughs and starts it, fortunately Garfield doesn't stall, "Probably not." She is about to pull out when she remembers that Percy is still in her car. "Now, get out. I have to go home."

"To do what?"

Y/N huffs and feels embarrassment climbing up her spine like the slimy snake in Adam and Eve, encouraging her to make up some lie so she can look cooler. But unlike them she doesn't fall into that pit, "I dunno."

"Okay, so no plans for the rest of the night then."

Y/N gives him a look that lets him know he isn't even a quarter as casual as he thinks he is. Percy takes it in stride, since Y/N answers his question despite his glaring obviousness. "I mean the only thing I planned on was going home and finishing my book, unless someone has a better idea."

She hopes Percy supposes he's supposed to be that someone, but sadly, he hasn't thought this far ahead into the conversation. He fumbles, stammering out little nonsensical half-sentences, but Y/N is blissfully unbothered. "Don't we have to work on the project?" His head is leaning against the headrest and Y/N wonders how someone stuttering can look so casual, and composed, and pretty.

He lights up then, and Y/N smiles unconsciously. Her heart beats a bit faster when his eyes met her own. She doesn't look away, and she feels this pull. The rest of the world turns into white noise, non-existent and unimportant. Y/N wants to reach out and touch him, just feel his skin against her own. It's addicting and exhilarating. "Ya," his voice comes out deeper than normal, and he has to clear his throat before speaking again, but even then it comes out softer than normal. He's doing this thing with his eyes, it makes her stomach flutter. And even though she shouldn't, she wanted to kiss him. "That's a good idea."

They stared at each other unapologetically as they sat there. Her eyes traveled from his aqua green eyes that resembled the ocean so much that she felt a serene feeling wash over her, as if she had just taken a whiff of salt water. Then, she realized that it was just Percy. Something about knowing how he smelled made her heart pound. She wondered how he kissed, whether he liked to go fast or slow. She knew that with him it wouldn't matter to her. Her eyes moved down to his throat and watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. She saw the tilt of his lips and a flash of a dimple, the dip of his collarbone, the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing.

By the time she looked back up, neither of them moved, even though Percy had just admitted that he wanted to leave.

And then suddenly he was moving. He put his phone in the cup holder, and his fingers brushed against hers in a split second of what felt like life. Then he slid across the seat and slipped her cheeks into his warm hands, his fingers raked through the back of her hair, and Percy kissed Y/N.

He barely touched her. Just a light brushing of lips against hers, the slightest feel of his breath on her face.

It shot through her in milliseconds. Even though it was just a press of lips, her breathing was ragged.

His hands were still stuck in her hair, and he was still so close to her. It made her a little breathless.

They stayed there, just taking each other in, neither moving or breaking eye contact. He looked at her like it was work not to look at Y/N. It's silent until it's not.

"You know those people you just sort of... vibe with?" Percy whispered, his eyes closing as he leans his forehead against hers. Her breath shudders.

She was glad he asked the question before invading her personal space again, her focus always went out the window. "Vibe with?" She giggles a little at the choice of word.

But Percy doesn't, he looks at her with a kind of seriousness that silences her immediately. Then, she thinks about his question, really thinks about it. Y/N was familiar with it. There are some people that when you meet you just click with, their vibes just vibe with yours. Those are the people you want to keep in forever because at the end of the day, they are who you want to be and Percy is more herself than she is.

But instead of staying that she just nods, and their noses brush. His lips quirk up. "Well, you are that person for me, I think."

Y/N smiles, and plants one of him. When she peels herself away from him, he chases her lips and she lets him. Choosing instead to murmur against his, "You're that person for me too."

[yandere-daydreams]

if request slots are open: consider. i know you don’t like shoto but listen listen. royalty!au in which the darling is also a royal, of an opposing kingdom. shoto just thinks they’re so soft and lovely and why won’t they accept his marriage proposal?

This is pure self-indulgence, really. I just want to use fancy language and imagery and say nothing bluntly ever because straight-forwardness was only invented in the 1900s, and this is a reality I accept.

TW: Dehumanization, Abuse of Power, and Metaphors.

~

Your kingdom was known for never refusing a guest.

It was a state more than a nation, really, a wonderful city that relied on trade and unity to sustain itself. As such, you were more of a diplomat than a ruler, a host dressed in jewels and made to entertain true leaders from the allies held in such high-esteem by your advisors. You’d mastered the art of meaningless conversation, your patience taught to you by decades of being talked-over, and although many royals had seen fit to test your policy, there was always a free room ready when they were prepared to humble themselves and accept it. You adored that part of your occupation, how kind you got to be, to your people, traveling peasants, kings and queens and anyone who crossed your path. You liked to be generous.

But, Shoto was not a Prince known for bringing out the best in people. And you were certainly no exception to his contagious aversion.

Usually, you would make an effort to greet your visitors in the courtyard, but his visits were too frequent and too impulsive for you to do so much as stand before his entourage was in your throne room, the young Prince standing before you. He didn’t seem to mind your lack of enthusiasm, the boy smiling so brightly as he stepped in front of the elevated platform. You didn’t doubt he would run to your seat, if given the chance, but your personal guards made their aggression known as soon as his foot touched the first step of the short flight. “My Songbird,” He greeted, instead, not seeming to notice the way you cringed at the nickname. “You haven’t been responding to my letters, but my yearning still persists. Have you grown tired of singing to me so quickly?”

“I do not see why it’s necessary to respond to inquiries I have already answered.” Your voice was cold, at best, frigid at worst. You didn’t have it in your heart to be cruel to anyone, much less a friend you had once held so dear. Even with how appealing he made cruelty seem, these days. “I am not your songbird, but if I was, I think you would dread having to hear the same two notes play on a never-ending loop. God knows my throat has grown sore from delivering them.” You paused, glancing towards the advisor on your left, positioned there on the chance your behavior slipped into something less than agreeable. She waited a moment, pondering, but a nod was all you needed to proceed. “You must be tired, Todoroki, please allow my valet to show you to your chambers. A long journey deserves an even longer rest.”

You saw Shoto falter, a hand unconsciously coming to rest on the sword at his belt. You guards mirrored the gesture, although you didn’t take it as a threat. “I am thankful for any note you grace me with,” He assured, taking another step forward. “But, there are three that would make me euphoric. Isn’t that what you should want? Why would you sing at all, if not to make someone happy?”

Straightening you back, you leaned forward, uncrossing your legs to better fill your throne. “I sing for my own joy, no one else’s. Be glad I am forgiving enough to let you listen from a distance.” He opened his mouth, but you carried on, drawing circles in the velvet under your arms. “My answer is no, and there is nothing you can do to change my mind. When I find a shelter I can roost in, one I choose to roost in, then and only then will make my nest. I have no desire to make my home a cage, regardless of how golden the bars.”

At that, he smiled, and you dug your nails into the soft fabric. “It would be a beautiful cage, wouldn’t it?”

“You’re intolerable,” You mumbled, deflating. It was hard to be angry, now, the disappointment cutting through you more deeply than the knife of loathing ever could. Marriage was not a necessity, to you. Unlike his own clan, your’s had never placed an emphasis on blood. You’d been an orphan most of your life, and you had no issue with continuing the tradition your childless parents had started. Children who’d never known love always seemed more appreciative when receiving it, although you’d admit Shoto’s existence contested that theory. “I cannot–”

“And a beautiful cage deserves a stunning creature to inhabit it,” Shoto continued, speaking over you without hesitation. Another step was taken, then another, leaving Shoto towering before you, too close for comfort. You were tempted to stand, if only to put the two of you at an equal height, but Shoto would’ve simply found another way to place himself above you. He was good at that, especially if it meant making you feel small. “Think of it as an alliance. Your country would have my father’s army behind it, and I would have you. Is that not a worthwhile sacrifice?” You weren’t given time to answer his question, Shoto dropping to one knee unceremoniously, suddenly. It caught you off guard, enough so for you to lean forward, moving to help him up. But, Shoto only took your extended hand, holding your palm to his cheek as he spoke. “Visits aren’t enough, this isn’t enough. I wish to have you as my partner, and if I don’t, I can not guarantee my next action will be one of peace.”

You jerked back, not asking for permission before pushing yourself onto your feet. It took more of your self-control than it should’ve to keep from telling him to leave, to get out of your castle and never come back. Your anger must’ve been visible, because your advisor reached out as soon as your fists had a chance to ball, a steady palm coming to rest on your shoulder. It was a small consolation, but it snapped you out of your rage nonetheless, even if your calmness was still volatile when regained.

“Rest, Little Prince. Exhaustion has clouded your better judgment.” His eyes widened, lips contorting into a frown, but you didn’t give him a chance to refuse. Instead, you made the first move, waving for your guards to follow as you descended the short staircase. “If I hear one more word about marriage, I fear I may be the one to abandon our treaties. This songbird wishes to sing in another court, for now.”

 Shoto was quick to stay on your heels, his excuses following just as closely. “But–”

“One more word,” You warned, his troop of guards and servants parting to let you through. “I don’t wish to make an enemy out of you. Please, enjoy my city and take advantage of my hospitality, but do not approach me with the same attitude. I have made up my mind, and my decision is final.”

And with that, you left. That was the advantage of his petname, you supposed.

Flying away was much easier when you were given wings.

But, Shoto was a beast of the ground, unfortunately.

He stayed as you fled, watching you run from him like prey from a predator. Part of him acknowledged your feelings, or the lack thereof, rather. He knew you didn’t love him, not truly, and he knew you didn’t care for him as he cared for you. He knew you didn’t want to be with him.

And yet, you were kind and welcoming and genuine. You were loving towards him, even if you didn’t love him.

Shoto took a moment to scan over the room. His guards surrounded him, as faithful as ever, each buzzing for an order. His father had never allowed him to travel lightly, even when Shoto was more than capable of protecting himself. Your nation didn’t have the same strength. With no standing army, no way to defend yourself, you relied on neutrality and alliances for protection. It was a symbolic security, but one that would stand unless a very powerful, very feared kingdom attacked.

Unless Shoto’s kingdom attacked.

He decided he would bring the idea to his siblings, as he waited for the room’s doors close behind you. It would be a controversial suggestion, but there was territory to be gained, resources that could help more deserving people. With their forces, it would be over in a matter of days, hours, even. He doubted your ‘allies’ would care, by the end of the week.

Besides, Shoto had a pet who needed to be put back on their leash. 

You seemed to think you’d outgrown your cage.

[harrypotterhogwartshitpost]

A Thoroughly Modern Mystery, by @harrypotterhogwartsshitpost

Overview: A modern day twist on a hogwarts mystery story.

Episode Twelve: Curse

It’s a hot summer night in a small town in muggle Georgia. A girl, around twelve, sits in her bed, clutching her pillow in tears. Panic! at the Disco plays on a cheap speaker. She screams along and the tears begin to flow harder. She holds her pillow as tight as possible, shaking. She wants to go back but she can’t. She finally got a taste of a better life, and she can’t go back to it.

Not that her life right now is all that bad. She stays in a decent house, she has her own bedroom, plenty of food. Her uncle loves her very much and tries his best to take care of her. But there’s something- someone missing. Someone that all the money in the world (which she pretty much has) can’t replace. A constant empty feeling inside of her.

“Hey Victoria, I got some letters from your magic school.” A man opens the door, sitting the letters on the edge of the bed and leaving. He doesn’t have the means to get involved right now. He knows it’s best to give her her time.

She goes to open the letters. There’s two. The first one reads

“Wotcher Vic! I hope you’re having a good summer in America. I asked my mother what it’s like there, but she didn’t answer… I think mum said I’m supposed to go to the burrow for a few days soon. I spend a lot of time there. I’m sure you can come too if you have the time! The Weasley’s love company! … I think… Hope you write back soon, Tonks.”

She smiles a little at the letter, folding it back up and sliding it into its envelope before opening the second letter.

“Hey Victoria! How’s your summer? I told my father you live with muggles and he has like a thousand questions. He loves muggle things, he even keeps an old muggle car behind the house. Mum isn’t a fan, but I don’t think he’s gonna get rid of it. Tonks is supposed to stay for a few days soon, she does that every once in a while. I’m sure you could come too if you have time... Mum loves having company! Oh! And Bill says “Hi” as well! Write back soon! Charlie!”

She smiles again, Charlie’s letter even has a little heart at the end. She puts the letter back in the envelope. Those are her best friends at Hogwarts. She met them while waiting for the sorting ceremony, and they've been practically inseparable since. She tries to get up to write them back, to tell them she was super excited to receive their letters but cheer tryouts are next week so she can’t visit, but she doesn’t have the energy, instead she finds herself laying on her listening to My Chemical Romance.

“Vic! Vic! Victoria!!”

Victoria jumps a little, and she’s back in her dorm room, alone, under the black lake. She’s clutching her pillow and tears are streaming down her face. Blink-182 plays in the background

Charlie walks in, sitting down on the end of the bed.

Charlie: Are you okay? Bill says you never showed up to investigate the curse with Rakepick. He’s worried sick.

Victoria can’t give him an answer, instead she just keeps crying. Her eyelids start to feel heavy as hot tears fall down her cheeks, blurring the picture of Charlie sitting in front of her.

Charlie: It's okay Victoria.

Charlie tries to comfort her.

Charlie: Deep breaths, okay? Deep breaths. What’s wrong?

Victoria takes a few deep breaths. She feels her lip quiver as she tries to hold back the tears. After a few more breaths she’s able to force out a few barely audible words.

Victoria: I- I- I could- I- I- couldn’t- couldn’t go.

She immediately starts sobbing again as her head fills with thoughts.

Charlie: Why?

Victoria: J-J- Ja- J- Jacob.

Charlie: Wh-

Her voice is shaky. Sniffles and unsuccessfully held back sobs interrupt her sentences.

Victoria: J-J-Jacob fell victim to- to- to- to a- a- a- a curse, th- th- tha- th-that’s how he disa- disappeared, I know- I know he did.

Charlie: No one’s seen or heard from Jacob in year’s, how could he?

She sniffles big, attempting to stop snot from dripping out of her nose.

Victoria: He-he told me. He speaks- he speaks to- to- to me in my head- in my head sometimes.

Victoria: He’s in th-th-the portrait vault. I could- I- I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t go- go- g- go look at someone else’s sibling, tr- tra- tr- trapped li- like Jacob.

Charlie: That’s understandable Victoria.

Charlie reaches and wipes Victoria’s tears with this sleeve.

Charlie: It’s completely understandable.

Victoria: I’m the- I’m the curse.

Charlie: What?

Victoria: I’m the curse. I’m the- the reason people got frozen, sleepwalked into the- the forest, got sucked into a- a- a- portrait. my own friends, and- and- and their sib- siblings.

Victoria: Ben was- was stuck in cursed i- ice all year... Bill got frozen to, but I happened to be there to finish off the-the-the vault and- and unfreeze him. Tu- Tu- Tulip sleepwalked into the forest, now Be- Bea- Be- Beatrice, P-P- Penny’s sister is in a portrait. It sucks knowing Jacob is- is like that, but for Penny to-to- to be here- to be here when it happened, to get to wi- witness it, I can’t imagine...

Her tears start to flow harder, her words become practically inaudible.

Victoria: May-may- maybe everyone wa- w- wa-was right my first year... I should- shou- sh- shouldn’t be allowed at- at- at- at Hogwarts...

Charlie: Victoria, that’s not true and you know it...Jacob got into some dangerous business while he was at Hogwarts, and that’s not your fault. All you’re doing is correcting the wrong he did. Now, what’s going on with all this? Are you going to be okay?

Victoria: Remember right after our- our first year ended, you sent me a- a letter.

Charlie: Yeah...

Victoria: Tonks sent a- a letter too, they arrived at the- at the same time. I was reliving that day. This- this playlist was playing, I was clutching my- my pillow crying like that.

Victoria: I’m sorry I never responded to- to your letter Charlie. I wanted to. I really did, I promise, but I never found the- the energy to leave my bed and write one- write one back. I was so upset the school year was- the school year was over, all my friends were- we- were gone. I missed my dorm, my classes, my- my friends, Jacob...

Charlie: It’s okay Victoria, that was years ago, it doesn’t matter anymore, what matters is you’ve grown since then, and things have gotten better. Now come here.

Victoria sits up and hugs Charlie.

Charlie stands up and picks up Victoria.

Victoria: Damn, you can- you can carry me?

Charlie: I don’t know what you think I do in my free time.

Victoria: Wh- where are we going?

Charlie: You’ll see.

Before she knows it she's Charlie’s dorm. Bill is sitting on Charlie’s bed, he looks really worried. Charlie sits Victoria down next to him.

Bill: Victoria! Are you okay!

She’s still crying, but it’s a softer, quieter cry now.

Victoria: I-I- guess.

Charlie: I figured it’d be good for her to be somewhere where she can get some real light, instead of being stuck in the dungeon under the lake. She can sleep in my bed tonight.

Victoria looks up at Charlie

Victoria: I love you.

Charlie: I love you too Victoria.

Bill: Are you okay Victoria? Why didn’t you show up to investigate the curse?

Victoria: Can we talk about this later? I’m exhausted and I just want to sleep.

Bill: Yes, of course.

Victoria holds onto Bill tight, wrapping her arms and legs around him, nuzzling her head into the crick of his neck. The feeling of being so close to him instantly makes everything seem a little better. She feels safe enough to let out the rest of her tears out onto his old t-shirt, while he rubs her back gently.

Victoria: I love you Bill.

Bill: I love you too.

She stays in his arms for a while, not talking, just enjoying his embrace as he plays with her hair. Eventually she begins to yawn.

Bill: You sleepy?

Victoria yawns again

Victoria: No.

Bill smiles.

Bill: I’ve already learned what that really means.

He sits her down in front of him and starts to get up.

Bill: Good night Victoria. I’ll see you tomorrow.

Victoria’s voice is sleepy.

Victoria: Goodnight.

Charlie: It is getting near bedtime.

Victoria moves over, giving Charlie room to join her

Victoria: Can we cuddle-

Charlie: You don’t even need to ask.

Victoria rolls over, wrapping her arms and legs around Charlie, spooning him.

Victoria kisses his ear softly and begins to play with his hair.

Charlie rolls over, facing her. He kisses her slowly, pulling her in closer. Victoria feels unexplainably safe in his arms.

Charlie: Are you feeling better?

Victoria: Yeah.

Charlie: Is everything going to be okay?

Victoria: I think so?

Charlie: You sure? I know how it gets sometimes.

Victoria: Yeah. Yeah it is. It’s already starting to pass. The um- the emptiness, the sadness- the self loathing and self doubt, all of the ‘what ifs’, they’re passing.

Charlie: That’s good. And if there’s ever anything I can do, please just tell me.

Victoria smiles a little. Charlie smiles back at her. After a moment they kiss, softly.

Victoria: Do you think Percy knows?

Charlie: Hmmm?

Victoria: That we smoke weed? I mean maybe he knows more than we think? He knew about me and Bill, and he did call you a ‘drug-addict’ the other day.

Charlie: I’m not sure what that really has to do with anything right now, but absolutely not. He’s the least chill person ever. He would have definitely told mum and probably the authorities. He was just talking about my mood stabilizers, ya know, that keep me sane.

Victoria: I was just thinking about it and some of the other things he said while I was kinda zoned out. But yeah, Percy’s kinda an ass.

Charlie: You’re right, he is an ass, and so is his rat.

Victoria: I just can’t believe he’s so mean to you.

Charlie: It is what it is. I try not to let it bother me too much.

Victoria: Good, you shouldn’t. You’re perfect, no matter what Percy and his rat say.

Charlie rolls his eyes and laughs a little.

Charlie: Yeah yeah yeah...

There’s a beat before they kiss again, and again, and again…

Victoria pulls back.

Victoria: You’re the best best friend.

Charlie smiles.

Charlie: Yeah...

He kisses her again.

(Next ->)

(<- Previous)

[sunflowersupremes]

Bun in the Oven

This is an abandoned plot point from my A/B/O verse. It ended up not fitting in the continuity of the fic, but it’s been kicking around my hard drive for months so I thought I’d pull it out and finish it up.

No prior knowledge of my A/B/O verse is needed, it’s just a deleted scene and strays pretty far from the plot of the other story. Although if you have read my other fic you may recognize a few bits that ended up getting reworked and used for other things

Tags: Past Rape/Non-Con

Read on AO3

Another successful contract finished, and Geralt headed to Novigrad. It wasn’t a city he frequented often, but there were a great many things to look forward to there: an inn with a proper bed, a tailor for a new set of clothing, and (more likely than not) Dandelion.

His friend enjoyed the city, and if he wasn’t in Oxenfurt, stirring up trouble at his alma mater, he was most likely in Novigrad (when he wasn’t with the Witcher, that was). They’d not seen each other since Geralt had headed north the previous fall, and after spending the winter in Kaer Morhen he’d returned south and had yet to stumble across Dandelion.

Since fate was misbehaving, he’d have to give it a bit of a nudge.

Once in the city, he easily found the inn where the bard was staying, although he was surprised to be told that he hadn’t been seen in several days. No matter, thought the Witcher, he’s most likely in a creative funk, only allowing prostitutes in to see him. He would let Geralt in though, he always did, and the Witcher could regale him with stories of monsters, and Dandelion will fill him in on whatever absurd gossip was going around at the time. The poet would also know a tailor where he could get a new jacket, and then, perhaps, they’d head out on the Path together.

A coin tossed at the innkeeper got him the location of Dandelion’s room, and an order to tell his friend that he only had a day left on the coin he’d paid so far. Geralt nodded, handed over another day’s rent, and walked upstairs.

He pushed open the door to Dandelion’s room without thinking, because he never bothered to knock, the worst that could happen was finding Dandelion in bed with some woman, but he was caught off guard by a shoe hitting him in the face.

Geralt stumbled backwards, swearing and cursing, bringing his hand to his nose. It seemed Dandelion’s bedfellow hadn’t taken well to being intruded upon.

But when he looked up, Dandelion was alone, standing in the middle of the room with his other shoe in hand, dressed in a silken robe that hung loosely around him. “Dandelion-”

“Geralt?” The shoe dropped from his hand, hitting the ground as he stared at Geralt in shock. It seemed that the Witcher wasn’t the person he had been expecting, but somehow he didn’t seem exactly pleased to see him.

Geralt took a step forward. Dandelion took two steps back. “What is it?” he asked. The room reeked of perfumed oils and candles, several different ones all layered on top of one another, competing for attention.

“Dandelion?” he asked again.

The bard was just staring at him, his eyes wide with fright. “Ger- Geralt- I- You should leave.”

“No.”

The bard’s pupils were blown wide, as though frightened, but the tremor in his hands made Geralt think more of someone coming down from a drug high. “What happened?” Geralt asked.

“I- I-” Dandelion shook his head. “I’m a whore.”

Geralt’s first thought was to say that everyone knew of Dandelion’s promiscuity, but something told him that wouldn’t be well received at the moment. He slowly removed his swords, hanging them from a peg by the door, and continued to study Dandelion in silence.

A strange scent seemed to be wafting from Dandelion, but he couldn’t quite place it, not under all the other smells in the room. It smelled almost like sex, and Geralt asked, “Are you in heat?”

“I was.”

That caught him off guard. Dandelion took enough suppressants to tranquilize a rhinoceros, for him to have been in heat- “Did something happen?”

“I was tricked. I- I took poppy instead of my suppressants.”

“But you aren’t in heat now?” Geralt asked slowly.

Dandelion’s entire demeanor suddenly changed. Bending over he grabbed the shoe he’d dropped earlier and hurled it at Geralt. “Get out!” he shouted, his face twisted with anger.

The shoe bounced harmlessly off Geralt’s chest. “No.”

The bard lunged at him, his fists banging against Geralt’s chest as he shouted, something about Alphas and their innate cruelty, he was speaking too quickly for Geralt to catch it.

But with Dandelion as close as he was, Geralt realized what he was smelling. Shit.

“Hit me again,” said quietly. “I mean it, Dandelion, if it will help-”

“Damn it, Geralt! Protect yourself!” Dandelion swung at him again, but he barely felt it.

“You can’t provoke me into attacking you!”

“You’re an Alpha! That’s what you do!”

“If you want someone to kill you, you’ll have to find someone else,” Geralt said quietly. “Lambert perhaps, he hates you enough.” It didn’t make Dandelion laugh.

“I don’t need you to kill me, just- just this parasite-” He gestured to his stomach. “I thought you might stab it, actually.”

“You’re pregnant.”

It was as if Geralt’s words took the wind out of him, and Dandelion collapsed onto the bed, burying his face in his hands. “Yes,” he said weakly, then began to sob.

Geralt sat beside him slowly, studying his body language for any sign that he was uncomfortable with the Witcher’s presence. But he seemed to have lost the earlier anger, settling instead into loathing and self pity.

“What happened?”

Dandelion looked up, and in such close quarters Geralt could see the lines of exhaustion on his face. “What the fuck do you think, Geralt? I was sold poppy instead of my medication and- well, I was attacked.” A shiver ran through him and he pulled his robe more tightly around himself. “I- I- Geralt they took me somewhere, to their house or something, I honestly don’t know, but I do know it was the worst time of my life, and then, on top of it all, by the time I got away I- I suppose it was too late.”

“Have you seen a doctor-”

“No,” Dandelion snapped. “I don’t need one to know I’m pregnant-”

“I meant- were you harmed-”

“A few bruises was all, they’ve faded.” Dandelion rubbed his face. “Childbirth is hell on male Omegas, Geralt, did you know that? We don’t have a proper birth canal, so it just sort of rips open.”

“I thought about giving it to Yennefer,” Dandelion sneered. “But she doesn’t want just any child, she wants one out of her own cunt.” Geralt doubted he’d ever actually considered it, it just seemed to be someone he could be angry about (which he deserved at the moment).

“We can find an abortionist.”

“I tried,” grumbled Dandelion. “They’ll sell an Omega nightshade but not an abortifactant, did you know that?”

Geralt raised an eyebrow. “Did you buy nightshade?”

“It’s in the dresser,” said the bard calmly. “I was too much of a coward to take it.”

Geralt’s hands itched to pull him into a hug, but he knew better than to grab him. One of us has to remain rational, he decided, and it won’t be Dandelion, understandably.

He bit his lip and studied Dandelion. It was hard to make anything out with the loose robe hiding his form. “How far along are you?”

“Two months. I- I’ve been living here- thank the gods my half brother gave me a bit of coin the last time I saw him and I hadn’t spent it yet, otherwise I wouldn’t even have managed to stay here.” Geralt’s chest twinged at the thought of Dandelion being alone and vulnerable for so long.

“I’m an Alpha,” Geralt said quietly. “I can get you an abortion, if that’s what you want.”

“Of course that’s what I fucking want!”

“It’s getting late,” Geralt said softly. “There’s nothing we can do tonight. May I stay with you?”

“Please do,” Dandelion whispered pathetically. “I- don’t leave.”

“I won’t.” Geralt swallowed, knowing what he needed to do. “May I look you over?”

Dandelion eyed him warily. He knew there were horrors in the bard’s past, something to do with his status as an Omega, but he didn’t ask about them. It was understandable that Dandelion wouldn’t want anyone - let alone an Alpha, to touch him.

“You smell of pain,” he explained gently.

“I- my body is ripping apart, Geralt. Male Omegas aren’t meant to have pleasant pregnancies.”

Geralt nodded. “I know,” he said gently. “And I know there are treatments that meant to be done, and I suppose you haven’t done them, so I’d like to make sure you aren’t falling apart on me.”

Dandelion nodded slowly. “Alright,” he whispered. “I- I haven’t looked, I- I just know, well, there was blood the other day…”

Geralt stood. “Robe off,” he said. “Lay on your back.”

Dandelion shrugged it aside and Geralt immediately knew why he’d been wearing it. His stomach had only a small swell, since the baby wasn’t too far along, but his nipples were angry and red.

Geralt winced sympathetically.

Dandelion squeezed his eyes shut as he laid back, letting Geralt rub his hand over his stomach, then to his hips.

When Geralt pushed his legs apart, he whined. “Easy,” the Witcher soothed, rubbing his side.

“Fuck it all,” moaned Dandelion. “Just kill me.”

“No, Dandelion, I won’t hurt you.”

Dandelion’s entire crotch was red and inflamed, more than he’d been expecting, and the strange patterning in the inflammation made it look as though fingers had rubbed over it. “What did you put on yourself?” Geralt asked sharply.

“An herbal mixture,” the bard said. “I- I was panicking, I thought it might help...”

“I think you’re allergic to it.”

“I think you’re right.”

“I’m going to wipe you down,” Geralt said.

Dandelion groaned but didn’t argue.

Geralt found a basin of water and a rag and brought them back to the bed. He dipped the rag in the water then carefully pressed it against Dandelion’s thigh. He wiped him down as quickly as he could,

“I fought a Katakan last week,” Geralt said, hoping to distract Dandelion.

“That’s a vampire? Isn’t it?”

“Lesser Vampire,” Geralt explained. “It had been terrorizing a small village to the north of here.” He lifted Dandelion’s cock, peering under it to see the inflammation between his balls and anus. He appeared to be mostly intact and there was no sign of blood, so Geralt set the cloth aside and stood.

“Did you kill it?”

“What else would I do with it?”

Dandelion wrapped himself back up in his robe, shivering slightly. “I’d like details,” he muttered.

“Sleep,” Geralt pleaded. “And then I’ll tell you more once we’ve gotten you to a doctor.”

[thisisthehardestthing]

This Is The Hardest Thing - 6

18+, nothing happens but mentions of sexual fluids.

Authors note: Would like to apologize with how short this is, but the previous chapter was quite intense (or at least I thought it was) and so this is mostly just for a breather, to give some info and develop a bit more plot.

Masterlist

CHAPTER 6

No, no, no, no, no, no, no. Your eyes were wide, glancing from Bakugo, to the laundry room, back to Bakugo. The events that just transpired replayed in your mind. Nausea began to bubble up in your stomach as you sat upright, willing your feet to be steady once it hit the wet tiles. He shouldn’t have touched you. No, it’s your fault for not controlling it. You winced when you felt the cold cum slide down your thigh, buttoning your shirt, rubbing whatever you could feel on your legs with the inside of your skirt, thankful you were still on birth control.

The room, once clean and mopped and tidy, was now a complete mess, all thanks to you. All the dryers lining the wall were open, a few dented inwards with the one furthest away shifted out of line, almost ready to fall onto the floor below. The washing machines below, usually two neat lines, seemed to have gotten the brunt of the attack. They were scattered, zig-zagging across the room as the white metal tops and sides were dented in. Somewhere in a corner, a pipe must’ve ripped free as a puddle of water began to form and pool down to where you both stood. Your eyes wandered up, taking in the hanging lights. Thankfully, none had burst. The vibrations must not have traveled there.

Bakugo’s red eyes burned with anger and confusion and you wondered if he always had that level of energy in him. You were used to your quirk, yet you still found it difficult to remain standing, so how was he moving so freely? You were mortified, embarrassed, disgusted. Where could you even start? Do you apologize to him first? Do you explain everything? This was so messed up and you feel your chest start to constrict, tighten up so that it’s hard to breathe.

“Oi!” Bakugo’s sharp tone cut through your inner turmoil. He had taken a step away from you, standing as far in the width between two machines as possible. “Explain yourself.”

Your thumbs fidgeted awkwardly as your palms clasped together, the cold tiles under the soles of your feet an inviting, cool thrum against your frantic nerves.

“Bakugo, I’m sorry,” you began but he waved you off, an exasperated look in his eyes, biceps twitched as his arms across his chest. It was the only sign of muscle strain you could see in him.

“Fuck that, apologize later. What the fuck happened?”

You took a labored breath, tight chest hindering your movement as your mind whirred around the different explanations you could give him. So you settled on the easiest, most detached one.

“I can feel, absorb, and control the vibrations of atoms.” You said, opening your palms and lifting them. The fingers prints and lines on your hands were defined, which magnified your sensitivity with whatever you touched. “Even with my eyes closed, I can see what’s happening around me through the neighboring vibration and move it.” Your fingertips curled into your palms, half-moon indents forming against the skin. “I can’t control it properly. Sometimes, there’s too much energy…”

Bakugo made a strange growl, deep in thought, brows furrowed.

“So, what I felt when you touched me? What was that?”

You swallowed, the feeling of nausea returning as you struggled to look at him.

“It’s like an electric circuit. That’s the best way I can describe it. If I touch something… alive, it can feel my vibrations while it’s being moved, and I can feel theirs.” The explanation is chosen carefully, avoiding the fact that your feet were the same, you didn’t always need to touch objects, that you were a child of a quirk marriage.

Katsuki unfurled his arms and stared into his hands with an expression of longing and confusion. The skin on his palms was so thick, he could barely feel anything underneath them, but when he touched you, he had felt every centimeter beneath his calloused hands. Just remembering the way those vibrations flowed from his and into your body was enough to send him into a spiral of doubt, self-loathing and once again, need.

“Bakugo, I really am sorry. There are no words I can say that makes me losing control over my quirk okay.” The apology erupted from your chest as you saw his face, staring into space at his hands. His eyes snapped up, signature frown and clenched jaw evident.

“Tch, I don’t need your apology. I wanted to fuck you anyway, but don’t touch me again.” He stooped to pick up his shirt and twisted it, the water trickling into a puddle beneath his feet. The wet fabric was thrown over his shoulder, the resounding slap against his back sent another wave of shame through you. He picked up the bucket, then the mop, and busied himself with tidying up whatever else had fallen to the ground.

“Don’t just fucking stand there, we need to clean this place up.” Bakugo chastised, the glare in his eyes deadlier than before as he pushed a machine back in line with the rest.

You hesitated before turning to the machine behind you, limbs heavy like you were wading through water. The cold metal beneath your palm welcome as you focused on the dull thrum. The zig-zagging vibrations of aluminum laid out a map behind your eyelids. You were exhausted and the energy that poured into you from the metal contraption helped you feel a little more human, until you lifted your hands and it dispersed, draining back through the soles of your feet. The machine looked new again, no more dents in the side, the white surface completely smooth. Although your quirk did not drain you of your own energy, it did work your muscles more than any gym could, flushing them with an ache and endorphins.

So you moved to the next one, smoothing out any imperfections that were created before Bakugo maneuvered it back into place. It was soothing and painful at the same time, the feeling of the metal popping back up akin to the sound of a spoon scraping against a pan. It made your skin crawl, goosebumps rose on your forearms and shins. Bakugo made sure to keep a distance from you, at least a machine width. Everything about this day ended up wrong, and you couldn’t wait to crawl back to your room and hide beneath the covers for the rest of the night to ignore the hollow feeling in your chest.

He’d only stood next to you one time for the entire hour that was spent cleaning the room, and it was right before you both turned to leave. Your arms were close enough to feel the static between the hairs, but not touching. You suppressed a shiver and curled your toes up to ease permanent wave rolling off him. The bucket, mop, and broom gripped tight between those large palms, with the same strength they had latched onto your breast. He let out a sigh, head-turning only slightly towards you, ruby eyes peering down.

“I don’t blame you,” Bakugo said. It was curt and final, his tone sincere. Although not entirely relieved, those words made some unwitting tension release from between your shoulder blades. Saying ‘thank you’ in return felt wrong like he meant to pity you. You didn’t know him very well, at least emotionally, but you could tell that he did not pity anyone.

“Don’t tell anyone,” you replied, meeting his gaze, just as pointed. He made a snarky comment under his breath and walked out of the room.

You stayed a minute longer, partly to give him space but mostly to rid yourself of the feeling of his footsteps on the floor. When you could no longer feel him, you cried.

************************************************************

Dabi stood in the middle of the dark room, facing a figure shrouded in shadows, seated in an overly large, pompous armchair. His piercings glinted in the orange flame of the fireplace that flickered in the corner. He crossed his arms, scarred skin tight on his forearms that pulled dangerously against thin skin. They were in the middle of a boring conversation; how to get the League back on their feet, next steps, and it was all Dabi could do not to set the entire place ablaze.

Absentmindedly, he picked at a scab and blood fanned out into the dips of his flesh, red on bruised purple. He mumbled a fuck before pressing the fresh wound with his thumb, annoyed at his habit.

“So, what do you think of the plan?” Shigaraki croaked out, his voice similar to the crackling of the fire before him. Honestly, Dabi had stopped listening twenty minutes ago, he couldn’t care less about how the League pulled out of their slump as long as he got to have some reckless fun.

“Yeah, sounds good. Let me know wha—” The door burst open, slamming against the wall as Giran hobbled in. The golden light of the hallway created a runway directly to Shigaraki’s chair, illuminating the grey hand on the red leather, pinky fingers lifted. Eyes peered around the edge, chapped lips pressed together tightly, as the newcomer was observed.

“You’re late.” He quipped, voice dripping with contempt.

“Sorry, Shigaraki,” Giran reached into his pocket for another cigarette, his tone indifferent to the underground ‘king’. After a long inhale, stretching out the silence, Giran blew smoke out, his jaw tilted to gaze at the ceiling. “I’ve got… news.” He selected his words carefully. Shigaraki had started losing his temper frequently, and Giran did not want to be on the receiving end of it.

“Spit it out.” Dabi huffed, his weight shifted from one foot to the other, a finger stroking the column of staples pressed into his chin. A sigh left Giran’s lips.

“I was cornered last night, well, this morning. There’s a pro-Hero currently in Japan from America, perhaps you know him? Soil?” Shigaraki grunted in response, neither a yes or no, but in distaste. “He wanted me to tell you that’s he’s waiting for you and that you can no longer hide in the shadows.”

The edges of Shigaraki’s lips turned up at the threat. “Someone I don’t know is making threats? Directly at us? They must be incredibly dumb, or incredibly strong. Dabi?”

The scarred man ran a hand through his hair, pulling at it slightly, ignoring the way his skin itched.

“Why don’t we go find out?”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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@aizawascumslut @whats-her-quirk @icythotsenpai @destiel1597 @joyousandverywarlike 

[thanksjro]

Spotlight: Hoist - This One’s About the Guy I Keep Mistaking for Hound.

It’s time to focus on the straight man. Not, like, straight as in hetero. Don’t get it twisted, Hoist is queer by default just like every Cybertronian in IDW, not that that’s been established in-canon just yet. No, Hoist is the straight man because he’s the grounding line in this issue.

Hoist, as established during Spotlight: Trailcutter, is off the Lost Light currently on a mission. At this exact moment, he’s running from something.

Well, it was nice knowing you, Hoist!

No, he manages to escape Tarn’s grasp by doing some sweet grappling hook drifting using his tow line, and books it for the crashed shuttle that all his fellow mission-goers are hiding out in. Missionaries, if you will. Looks like Swerve left right after Trailcutter hung up on him, so it’s probably for the best that he didn’t get that forcefield around his voice box. Can’t imagine it working at that long a range. Sunstreaker’s here, along with his pet, Bob. Sunstreaker’s feeling a little salty right now, probably because he’s supposed to be the handsome one, and instead he’s got some sort of face thing going on in this issue.

Yeah, nobody looks quite right in Spotlight: Hoist. Then again, maybe I just don’t get Cybertronian beauty standards.

On that note, let’s take a real quick look at our interior artist for this issue, Agustin Padilla. Padilla doesn’t have a ton of work within the Transformers franchise, but he’s worked on some iconic pieces- specifically, MTMTE #16, The Gloaming. 

Yeah, THAT one. We’ll get more into his work when we hit that issue, I promise.

Back to the story at hand: Hoist puts on the cloaking device for the ship, hiding them from Tarn, then gripes to Swerve about the scanner scope being a huge friggin’ liar, because it said that there wasn’t a gotdang thing out there, because there clearly is. Swerve is less than thrilled by the prospect of having Tarn in the general vicinity, to the point that he forgets how to talk for a solid .5 seconds. Swerve’s seen the DJD in action, and it’s not pretty.

They’ve got six hours before the cloaking shields drain the power, then it’s goodbye Safetytown, hello Murderville. So, what better way to spend their final hours than by sniping at one another over things like fault and who’s gotten the shortest end of the stick here?

Looks like Perceptor has a pretty strong lead on all the other guys, seeing as his legs have become one with the ship. Hoist’s busy trying to get in touch with the Lost Light, though no one’s picking up. Gee, wonder why.

Swerve is really in a needling mood, as he asks Sunstreaker where his apology is, seeing as he was the one piloting the ship when they crashed. Sunstreaker blows a gasket for a second over the fact that all he seems to do these days is apologize. Hoist manages to calm the situation and change the topic pretty smoothly, as he fiddles around with the internals of the shuttle to try and get the Lost Light’s attention.

Good at multitasking, Hoist is.

We get the backstory on Bob, who Sunstreaker found after Metroplex woke up and decimated the local Insecticon population on Cybertron, almost certainly upsetting the balance of the ecosystem and traumatizing poor Bob. Yes, even our dog stand-ins have trauma in MTMTE. Sunstreaker, in true pet-owner fashion, baby-talks Bob, saying that he’ll bite that big, nasty Tarn if he gets near them, won’t he? Oh yes he will! Yes he will! What a good boy, yes you are!

Swerve isn’t so optimistic.

Well, that’s certainly a sentence I just read with my own two eyes. Really hoping this is a bit of hyperbole, because I’d hate to think just what sort of life Swerve’s led that resulted in him watching a guy triple his size give himself an enema.

Sunstreaker, who knows that Swerve is kind of a massive baby, isn’t terribly impressed with how scared the DJD made Swerve, accidentally strokes the guy’s ego for a moment.

Swerve, completely on the defensive now, lists off the five things he’s afraid of. Hoist butts in to point out the implausibility of Swerve’s fears.

Smash cut to four hours later, and Swerve hasn’t slowed down a bit, having talked to the point that he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it anymore. Sunstreaker’s about had it with this marathon bashing he’s receiving, and suggests that Swerve pick on Hoist for a change. Swerve declines, saying that there just isn’t enough material to work with, because Hoist is boring.

Fun fact, this is his character quote for his introductory paragraph on the Wiki article. He had so little characterization up to this point, this is what they went with. Such is the fate of many of the Transformers who didn’t enter the original 80s cartoon until the second season. Roberts decided to run with it and take the rare opportunity to NOT give someone mental illness so severe and unchecked it’s simultaneously sad and hilarious. Hoist is probably the only dude in the entirety of the IDW run to just be a regular person.

After Swerve confirms that he does in fact know his colors, we blow past another hour, to find Hoist hard at work cutting Perceptor off of the ceiling/floor- Hoist, like most everyone on the Lost Light, is a doctor- as Sunstreaker and Swerve discuss previous scrapes they’ve gotten through. Apparently Sunstreaker fell off a bridge forever ago that was named after a biblical reference, because it doesn’t matter how little you believe in a higher power, you CANNOT escape the pull of the 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐀𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜.

Swerve asks Hoist if he has anything to contribute to the discussion, and while Hoist does have experience in near-death situations, he’d really rather not talk about it. Swerve respects his privacy.

Well, he tries.

Hoist indulges our little red and white idiot, because it’ll get everyone the Swerve-equivalent of peace and quiet, and begins his tale.

Long story short, it looks like another hotshot pilot had the same idea as Hoist’s, and things got a little crashy-explodey-everyone’s-deady. Hoist was the only survivor, and had to walk his sorry butt back to civilization. Then the exhaustion set in, and he was forced to sit there, fully convinced that he would die alone in the middle of nowhere.

Once he’s finished with his story, Hoist makes the horrific discovery that Swerve’s been bleeding to death over the last five hours, and failed to mention it.

No, Sunstreaker, he’s honestly just like that all the time.

Swerve’s spark casing has ruptured, which I can only imagine is somewhat similar to having a hole poked in your heart. A problem, to put it lightly. Sunstreaker and Hoist decide that, to keep Swerve from biting it, they’ll take the fight to the DJD, in an attempt to get some sort of transport back to the Lost Light and all the tasty medical equipment on board.

Man, it really is unfortunate that Rung’s still not got a head at this point in the timeline, because Swerve is like a jelly donut filled with self-loathing. God just took a jumbo-sized bakery syringe and jammed it right in there.

Hoist and Sunstreaker ignore Swerve’s protests/pained screaming, and gear up for a fight with what they can find. Hoist manages to make two working crossbows and a butt-ton of arrows, not to mention a couple bowie knives in about five minutes, and they head out to kick some tushie.

The lads split up, keeping in touch via communicators, and Sunstreaker manages to get found by Tarn. He gets his ass kicked, because of course he does- the DJD aren’t famous for their macramé and pies, they’re famous for super-murder and being horny for the Decepticause. As Sunstreaker has the realization that he’s leaving his beloved Bob behind, Hoist finds him. Sunstreaker’s in quite the pickle, because he’s had his chest blown in, and Tarn’s been replaced by Shockwave, Megatron, Sixshot, and Overlord.

This just gets better and better doesn’t it?

Then this happens:

Welp.

Swerve’s theory may hold some water, but we can’t worry about that right now, because Hoist is going to try and fight this bastard. Good luck with that, Hoist.

Yeah, that went about as well as it could have.

Hoist is about to get stomped like a bug, when the Con-biner suddenly phases out of existence. Weird.

Hoist runs back to the shuttle, I guess just leaving Sunstreaker in the middle of that clearing, even though he literally is a tow truck. He returns to find that Swerve’s passed out from blood loss, but Perceptor’s still awake, which is good, because there’s some grade-A bullshit going on on this planet, and we need the smart guy to info-dump for the sake of the plot.

Man, this is such a cool plot device, and I’m so mad it never comes up again after this Spotlight.

So, Tarn and all the big bads that Hoist ran into weren’t real, but projections of his and his team’s worst fears. It was feeding off of Swerve, but now that he’s down for the count, it’ll probably go for either Hoist or Perceptor next.

Then there’s what feels like an earthquake, one so powerful it finally removes Perceptor from the ceiling, letting what’s left of his body fall. Hoist runs outside to see just what the hell’s happening now, only to find Metroplex outside and closing in.

The phobia shields work on sub-sentient creatures too? Good lord, this thing just never stops, does it?

Thinking quickly, Hoist scoops up Swerve and the upper half of Perceptor and bolts for the edge of the cliff their ship is sitting next to. He must have been training for the Robot Olympics or something, because he makes the leap by a large margin, even when weighed down by two limp bodies.

Then he punches Perceptor in the face, knocking him out cold.

Then he commits an act of animal abuse as he knocks Bob out with his tow hook.

Our hero, folks! Let’s give him a hand!

As Metroplex fades out of existence, Hoist remembers that he is not immune to trauma, as he’s forced to sit there, completely alone, until help arrives.

No wonder he got that massive Rodimus Star. What a trooper.

Thus ends Spotlight: Hoist, as well as the Spotlight series as a whole.

So, Swerve may not have much of a read on Hoist, but I figure I can try and take a stab at it. Hoist is… helpful. The entire issue, he’s the one who never stops doing things. If he’s not trying to repair the shuttle, he’s cutting Perceptor out of the floor, or he’s patrolling the perimeter, or trying to defuse the tension between his crewmates, or building weaponry, or punching people in the face for the greater good.

The folks he’s surrounded with for his Spotlight accent the characteristics he lacks- he’s not insanely smart like Perceptor, or strikingly handsome like Sunstreaker is intended to be, or capable of holding a conversation like Swerve. He blends into the background, always has and always will, both within canon and as a character.

He’s just a guy. He’s the guy,  a jack of all trades, master of none. And that’s okay.